Bad Signs and Broken Pieces
by AfewSentencesShortOfaParagraph
Summary: Drop the World parts 1 and 2 in Eli's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh, gosh people…it's here. This is possibly going to be the biggest hurdle I will have to jump writing-wise. This is Drop the World, the first half of part 1 in Eli's point of view. This is the end of EClare. **

**This is going to be so challenging to write. But I hope you all enjoy it! **

This was it.

I had been waiting for this letter for weeks; since I had passed Stalker Angel off to Miss Dawes. And there it was…in my hands just begging to be opened.

I sighed, letting my mind go over how great it had felt just to send off my own original story. Whether this letter rejected Stalker Angel, crushing me brutally, or informed me that I was the winner I still tried and that much was worth rejoicing. But it would be pretty freaking great if I won.

After all, if I was the winner of the contest then I could give Clare her present.

Clare had proofread the final copy after our driving lesson, and had given me the okay to submit. So I had gone to Miss Dawes alone so that I could make one, tiny alteration so that the story really was perfect before it was submitted. I added Clare's name to the author line on the application I had to send in with the actual story, and Clare was going to be so excited when she saw it. The story was the labor of our love, and by adding her name it was like the biggest declaration of my affection I could think of.

I finally turned the letter over and stuck my thumb in the crease to break the seal. Here went nothing…

I ripped the envelope into shreds to get the actual content, and, once the thick piece of paper was finally free I started to scan.

But the third line I was already jumping up and down, the euphoria grabbing hold of me and propelling me to a high that I had never felt before. They had picked mine and Clare's story! The newest edition of Gothic Tales, out the next day, was to feature the brilliantly written Stalker Angel!

I had to share the good news with someone, preferably Clare, but I decided the unveiling of our first collaborative piece would have to be more dramatic than a phone call. I had to present Clare with the physical evidence that we were the world's most perfect team of writers ever. Clare and I were a dream team. She was going to love me forever because of this.

Yes, my dramatic flair would definitely add to Clare's excitement when she found out the good news. But I still needed to share my happiness with someone.

I dialed a familiar number, and waited as it rung a few times. "You're a go for Adam."

"Adam, I told you about Stalker Angel, right? How I submitted it for publication in Gothic Tales…guess what!"

"Whoa, dude, take it easy. I can practically hear your energy vibrating through the phone."

"Come one; just guess!"

"Due to the fact that you sound like you're going to explode any second I'm going to guess that they picked your story."

"When did you get so smart?" I answered, my sarcasm marred by the fact that I was just so damn ecstatic. "And it's not just my story…Clare is my co-author."

"Well, congrats, you two. When is it out? I can't wait to read the finished product."

"Tomorrow…I'm going to stop by the store before school and get a few copies. I'll pick one up for you," I promised him.

"Great, thanks man; that's really cool. I'd love to stick around and chat, but Drew is beating me at Halo right now, and I cannot let that happen."

"Go, kill, win…I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

"Thanks, Eli! And, again, congratulations! I have such talented friends. Drew, I'm going to kick your…," and with that the line went dead; I chuckled to myself. That had been anticlimactic. Here was my first time being a published author, and the first person I had told, my best friend no less, had rushed me off the phone to play video games.

Whatever, I wouldn't be happy or settled until I called Clare. I didn't have to tell her the news yet, but I just wanted to hear her voice. It had a profound calming effect. Just knowing that Clare's voice was seconds away was alluring…I dialed the number and held my breath until she answered.

"This is Clare," she sounded distracted, but I could change that.

"Is that who I called? Crap, must be a wrong number. I was trying to call Alli Bhandari…pretty, popular…feisty. Everything I like in a girl."

The words burned on their way out- as if I would ever be interested in Alli over Clare…or interested in Alli at all- but it was a joke. At least I thought it was funny.

"Real mature, Eli. Is there a reason you called? I'm doing homework."

She sounded…angry. I couldn't imagine what she had to be angry about, but I mentally went over the last few days. Clare had been pretty focused on some math test, but we had still spent some blissful time together. At least I had thought it was blissful. Maybe she had a different opinion. We were free of Fitz and stronger than ever. Right? I couldn't be the reason she sounded so miffed, could I?

"I'm not allowed to just call to talk to my beautiful girlfriend?"

"Not when she's busy doing homework, you're not."

"Is everything okay, Clare? Did I do something wrong?" I tried to keep the panicked edge out of my voice and failed miserably.

"No, of course you haven't. I was just in the middle of writing a paper, and you know I don't like to be interrupted. Besides, I have tons of other homework to do as well."

The tightness in my chest eased up just slightly. I still couldn't fully relax, though- not when Clare sounded so unhappy. After all, her happiness was my happiness. "Want me to come over and help. I _am_ your English partner…completely plausible excuse."

"I'll just have you edit it tomorrow or something. I really need to concentrate."

"I bet I could stimulate your brain a little, if you know what I mean. Just for an hour or so…I miss you."

"No, means no, Eli," she snapped and my heart dropped into the soles of my feet. Why did I never have the intelligence to not push things too far? "We were just together yesterday; we don't need to spend every waking moment together."

"Can you blame me for wanting to spend a lot of time with you?" I asked feebly, feeling wretched for pushing her over the edge. "But I'm sorry I was pestering you. Have fun doing homework. Try not to burn yourself out and you should get to bed at a decent hour tonight."

I sounded pouty, pathetic, but I couldn't help it.

"God, Eli, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just stressed. I love you, okay? I'll see you tomorrow morning, and I promise to get a lot of sleep…that should improve my mood, huh?"

I laughed, bouncing right back. My mood was in direct correlation with Clare's. "One can only hope. I love you, too. Sweet dreams, Clare. And by sweet dreams, I mean you should dream of me."

She chuckled a little, but it sounded just a tad forced. Or I could have been paranoid. "Sure thing. I'll give my subconscious the memo that you should star in every single one of my dreams. Now I really have to go. Bye, Eli; see you tomorrow morning."

I was about to say goodbye to her when the line went dead. My paranoia sparked again, making my breath hitch in my throat. Clare loved me…nothing was wrong…she was just stressed…she was busy with all her homework. There was nothing to worry about.

No, no…there was nothing wrong with us at all.

XXX

My night had been restless, to put it lightly. I fluxed between intense excitement about Stalker Angel and painful stabbings of worry about Clare's odd mood. So, instead of giving my mind a much needed and beyond deserved rest, I had spent the night rememorizing every line and crack in my celling.

And, normally, such a horrid night would have a direct effect on my day, but when I got out of bed I only had good things to look forward to. I had to go to the book store a few blocks away that I knew for a fact sold the Gothic Tales magazine, and then, more exciting than seeing mine and Clare's story in print, I would get to show Clare our winning creation. It would be a wonderful day only full of excitement.

Besides, once Clare saw our names together in ink I'm sure all feelings of stress from the night before would be a distant memory. She could not deny the romance of my gesture.

I dressed in a hurry, informed my mom that I would be sure to buy her a copy, too, and immediately ran off on foot. I had an hour and fifteen minutes before school started- enough to buy Stalker Angel, bring my parents back their copy, and pick up Morty so we could go to Degrassi and I could surprise Clare.

Since I was jogging it didn't take me long to reach the store, and when I did, I saw Gothic Tales on full display in the front window. It looked better than I could ever imagine- the cover of the magazine was a cartoon illustration of one of the final scenes of Stalker Angel…it was breathtaking and surreal…a dream come true, really. "There it is," I muttered to myself, afraid that if I closed my eyes the whole situation would vanish- taking my elation and excitement with it.

But even after I blinked it was still there so, giddy as ever, I rushed into the store and grabbed the top copy off the display; immediately flipping through it to find Stalker Angel. All my hard work, all of Clare's brilliance…it was all in black and white. It was a concrete tribute to the fact that Clare and I were the perfect team. By myself I was a good writer, but coupled with Clare we were unstoppable.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to create more…seeing my name there…seeing my work on display…it was intoxicating. Clare and I could work together on something bigger- a novel, perhaps? - and get it published. Our names would always be linked together. It would be perfect.

I grabbed all the copies off the display, then. I need them- one for Adam, one for my parents, one for Clare, a few for me. "I'll take all of them," I told the employee, and dug in my pocket for a lump of cash that was sure to cover it all. The man nodded at me, and I took off again; all my copies of Stalker Angel in hand.

"Mom," I called, a little out of breath from running home, but I was too exhilarated to care.

"Where is it, where is it? I can't wait to read it!" my mom squealed, meeting me in the foyer and planting a big kiss on my forehead before she snatched one of the copies out of my hand.

"Page ten," I informed her proudly. "I'm going to get to school…when you're done, let me know what you think of it, Mom."

"I'm sure I'll love it. Have a good day, sweet pea!"

I shoved the rest of my copies, all except one, into my backpack once I was in Morty. I could barely focus on driving as hyped up as I was. My head just kept running through all the ways Clare could react. Maybe she would laugh in excitement, or throw her arms around me in a huge hug to celebrate our success. Maybe she would even cry tears of joy! Whatever she did, though, I was sure she would be as happy about the publication of our first story…I knew I was.

I parked Morty, grabbed my backpack, and opened the copy of Gothic Tales to Stalker Angel. As I was getting out of the car I saw Clare walking toward the front of the school…perfect timing. Waiting to surprise her, I snuck up from behind, making sure she wasn't paying any attention, and then- WHAM- I revealed our masterpiece by slyly slipping the magazine in front of her face.

Clare jumped a little, falling back into me in surprise before she comprehended what was in front of her nose. "Feast your eyes on this," I told her, appreciating the intimacy of our position. Every inch of Clare was pressed against me, and I was momentarily distracted by the smell of her shampoo.

But, being Clare, she quickly extracted herself from my embrace. There was a huge smile on her face, and she looked proud as could be. "They picked your story? Eli…," she started, but it was clear by the way she called it 'my' story that she had yet to see the best part.

I cut her off, directing her attention to the very best part of all. "Look closer- our first published collaboration," I pointed to our names twined together in the permanent ink.

"But it's your story," Clare seemed confused, rather than ecstatic as I thought she should have been. "You wrote it."

"With your help, editor extraordinaire," I explained, realizing that Clare was just being modest. She thought she didn't deserve partial credit for our creation. She was so perfect. "We are a team."

"You didn't have to do that," Clare chuckled, blushing lightly. She almost looked uncomfortable, but I knew that couldn't be so. Not when we were so close to our dreams.

"No, I wanted to; it's the beginning of our dreams coming true," I assured her. Clare wasn't as excited as I had expected her to be, but her mood did not affect the bliss that that I was still feeling. Besides, Clare would get more excited when she heard my new idea. There was no way she wouldn't love it.

"Well thanks, I guess," she smiled warmly at me, and I thought it was the perfect time to reveal my plans for our future.

"My dark instincts, coupled with your flair for romance…we are unstoppable." I pulled Clare under my arm so I would be close to her when I told her what I wanted…what the ideal Spring Break would be. "I say we lock ourselves in a room and commence work on our first novel together! Just you, and me," I told her tenderly, locking eyes with her.

But before Clare had a chance to tell me what she thought of my idea, Alli ran up to ruin our moment. "Hey," she greeted Clare as she swiftly walked past.

Clare quickly stepped out from under the circle of my arm, putting more distance than necessary between us…that was weird. "Alli!" Clare sounded relived…even weirder. "Hey, uh, we have an appointment to discuss dress options for the Spring Fling."

Wait, Clare was hanging out with Alli later to go shopping? I thought she would want to celebrate with me. And Clare had never mentioned that she wanted to go to the dace…it wasn't like the last dance we went to had been a disaster, or anything. Besides…why did she seem more excited about this dance than the fact that she was a published author? I didn't understand; something was missing, something was not right.

"You've just been published, isn't a high school dance a little trivial?" I asked, trying to bring up my confusion in a joking matter.

But Clare didn't seem to understand that I was trying to kid around with her. She acted like I was attacking her, or something, because she immediately jumped down my throat. "Not really," her voice contained an angry edge. "Dances are fun."

Yes, almost getting stabbed at Vegas Night had been the highlight of my life. Where was this coming from? I decided to keep it light, though. Maybe if I joked more Clare would relax. "Balloons and banal top forty?" I laughed. It was almost absurd to think that Clare would rather spend a night among lame decorations, dancing to shitty music, than celebrating our hard work together. At least, I would rather view it as a joke than take the desire to be something serious.

"If you're not interested, don't come," Clare snapped as she turned on her heel to walk away from me, and my jaw went slack in surprise. Why was she so…pissed at me? What had I done wrong?

At first, as I walked to my locker, I tried to write Clare's moodiness off as PMS, but I was quickly able to discredit that idea. She wasn't one to be snappy due to hormones. If anything, Clare only became more reserved, yet emotional. She was much more likely to cry then yell.

So, if it wasn't just petty hormones…something was really wrong. The question was, was it something wrong with her, something I had done wrong, or, the worst scenario of all, was there something wrong with us? What if Clare's moodiness was an indication that there wouldn't be an 'us' much longer?

I would not be able to handle that; I would surely lose my mind, not to mention my faith in humanity, if the one good thing in my life left me. Clare wouldn't do that to me- we were in love! And if there was a problem with our relationship Clare would talk to me about it. That's how we had solved every problem that we had encountered before, right?

I couldn't lose Clare…I wouldn't. I had to come up with a plan to show her that we were still meant for each other. We needed to spend some time away from all the stress and worry- Clare and I needed some us time. We could rekindle the best parts of our relationship…take it back to where we were before Fitz showed up and ruined everything.

The thought made me feel just slightly better, but I still felt panicky- my heart was racing at an unhealthy speed. I felt sweaty and anxious…I needed a second opinion. Unfortunately, the person I would normally go to for help or advice was the person causing my distress.

I had to find Adam. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do when it came to problems between Clare and me. We owed him our relationship several times over.

I raced toward the computer room- knowing that Adam's first class was Media Immersions. My timing was spot on for the second time that morning, and I caught Adam just before he was about to follow the heard of students into the classroom. I lunged forward, grabbing his arm with more force than necessary, and pulled him slightly to the side.

When Adam saw it was me, he gave me a look that made me feel kind of nuts; like I was unstable. But, then again, I _was_ feeling pretty off center. "What are you doing? I have class," he protested.

"I'm driving myself insane," I informed him, the panicked edge in my voice only adding to the urgency of the situation. "It's Clare. I tried to joke around with her this morning, like always, but she was all…prickly!" The word had just come to me while I had been searching for the right way to describe Clare's behavior just a few, long minutes ago, but it summed up the vibe she had been giving off perfectly.

"You're just being paranoid," Adam assured me unhelpfully. That was it; that was all that I got? He was usually so good at talking me away from the edge of the cliff in my head, but his words did nothing to sooth the frantic worry consuming my thoughts.

"Every time she disagrees with me, I panic," I continued, refusing to let Adam off the hook that easily. I was coming apart at the seams! I needed something more than the obvious fact that I was paranoid…my paranoia didn't change the fact that Clare was acting differently. "I need to find a way to fix this- a plan."

"Your plans usually make things more complicated," Adam pointed out. "Just relax for now."

Why had he picked this day to be completely unhelpful? I couldn't 'just relax'; that was the problem! I did need a plan…a simple plan, so it wouldn't complicate matters any more than then they already were. Mostly I just needed something to focus on other than the fact that Clare might take away the only sanity I had left in my life. I _needed_ her!

"I can't," I told Adam, all my thoughts racing through my head a mile a minute. "I have to do something that's just for us; our thing." Clare obviously needed that reminder that we were perfect.

Before Adam could say something else that would, undoubtedly, be a heap of crap, Miss Oh cut into our conversation. "In or out, Adam- the latter will earn you a detention.

"I'll be right in, Miss," Adam promised before turning back to me. "Everything's going to be okay," he told me, but he couldn't know that. I wish he could, then his comment would make me feel better, but it was just an empty assurance. Nothing was ever okay in my life…except for Clare. What had I done to make her realize that I never deserved her in the first place? "Just, whatever you do," Adam continued, reading the intense worry plastered on my face, "take it easy."

Real sound advice, Adam. He knew that was easier said than done for me.

Since I was already late, I decided it would be beneficial to my mental health if I skipped History. I practically ran to Morty, locked the doors behind me and tried to calm myself with some deep breaths.

Okay, so, Clare was upset with me…this wasn't something new. I had dealt with Clare's anger before- especially directed at me. So why was I so anxious about this specific time? Why did I feel like there was some kind of ominous counterpart to Clare's annoyance?

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat…I really shouldn't be allowed to get myself so worked up. I hadn't even tried to talk to Clare about why she was so upset, I had just jumped to the conclusion that it was doomsday. Maybe Clare was just having a bad week, maybe I had forgotten an important date…maybe it had nothing to do with Clare at all. Maybe I was the one who was on edge.

I pulled out my phone to check the time; I wanted to be sure I didn't miss English and an opportunity to talk to Clare, when I happened to notice the date off-hand. April 17…was it really that close? Was that the reason for my heightened anxiety? As if to prove myself right, my breath started to climb toward hyperventilation. Why was I so freaked out? I had gotten over Julia; I had found my closure and my happy ending in Clare.

But, then again, maybe that's why I was so freaked out. I hadn't even realized that the date had been close- I was marginally upset with myself that I had completely forgotten the anniversary of Julia's death. The object had been to move on, but not to abandon. I was a horrible person.

As the realization dawned on me I wanted nothing more than to find Clare, apologize for whatever I had done wrong and hold her in my arms. She had promised she would never leave me…I wanted, no, I needed, to hear her say it again.

Thinking about Julia…well there had already been so much loss in my life. I needed to know I wouldn't have to endure anymore. I hopped out of Morty and walked swiftly back into Degrassi. There were still a few minutes until the first period was over, so I decided to grab my materials for English, and then wait outside Clare's first class.

It wasn't a long wait, but I sunk to the ground just beside the door and fiddled with my hands. I was such a mess…but why? I felt like my head was about to explode, and I didn't know how to stop it. I had always had my moments, but I had never felt so completely and utterly out of control of myself. I felt like a puppet-someone else was pulling my strings, making me dance, and they were laughing every time I fell over myself, hurting the people I loved in the process.

The bell rang, and I tried to swallow the shallow gasps for air; I managed to take one deep breath before standing and scanning the student's face as the left the classroom. Where was Clare?

Finally, I saw her curly mass of hair in the crowd. "Clare!" I called, and she immediately turned to the sound of her name. I pushed past the few students in my way to get to her, and then I grabbed her face and firmly planted my lips over hers in a panicked desperation.

Clare seemed to be too shocked to do anything for a moment, and then she gently, but firmly pushed me away. "Eli, I don't want to get in trouble," she chastised me, flushing.

"Sorry, so sorry…I'm sorry, okay. For the public display of affection, for whatever I did this morning…I love you, Clare. I love you more than anyone in my life, and I need you, and that scares me. But I just can't take it when you're mad at me. I can't, so please just tell me what I did wrong, and I'll fix it."

By the time I finished my desperate pleas, we were standing outside Miss Dawes' classroom. Clare met my intense gaze with an unreadable expression. The only adjective that came to my mind was guarded, and that terrified me.

"Oh, Eli…you didn't…I don't…I'm just stressed, and I'm sorry I took it out on you. Try not to freak yourself out so much. I don't want you to snap under all the pressure that you put on yourself about making this relationship perfect. It's not perfect, but I do love you. Just breathe…"

So, I had been blowing things out of proportion in my head; shocker. I freaked out way too often. It was a miracle that Clare hadn't gotten scared of me yet…or fed up and decided to walk away. I had so much to be thankful for…

"Clare…"

"Yes, Eli?"

"Thank you…for being you."

She smiled at me, letting the guard in her eyes down, and the sight was breathtaking. I could stare at her beauty for the rest of forever and not get tired of it.

"That's what I'm here for," she joked, grabbing my hand to give it a light squeeze before walking into the classroom. I followed behind, relishing the fact that her fingers were still curved perfectly between mine, and saw Adam already in his seat. I flashed him a brilliant smile.

"Someone's happy," he eyed me suspiciously. "Do you suffer from mood swings, or something?"

"You're funny," I mocked back scathingly before reaching into my backpack for one of my many copies of Gothic Tales. "As requested," I said, offering up the magazine.

Adam took it out of my hands immediately and paged through it until he found my story. "There it is…the happy couple's names in print," Adam chirped proudly, but Clare shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. I wondered why my supposed-to-be romantic gesture had elicited such a strange reaction from her.

"Just shut up and read it," I commanded, and Adam saluted me before diving in.

"Eli Goldsworthy," Miss Dawes called loudly as she breezed into the room with her usual cup of coffee. "Have you heard from the Gothic Tales contest, yet?"

"Actually, yes, ma'am, I have," I smirked proudly, fishing out another copy of my story from my backpack. "Take a gander at page ten," I gloated, tossing the magazine up to my favorite teacher.

She flipped to the page and gasped. "This is wonderful; simply exquisite, Mr. Goldsworthy. I will read the final product as soon as I have spare time. Now, let's talk about Chaucer and his Tales of Canterbury, shall we?"

The class seemed to fly by, and after the bell rang Adam turned to me- an amusing mixture of awe and disgust on his face. "That was the single, most amazing, gruesome, well-written and horrifying story I have every read. I don't know whether to be freaked out that you were capable of writing something like that, or insanely proud that you were capable of writing something like that…"

"You're allowed to feel a little bit of both," I chuckled at him fondly.

"Good…because that was really gross, man, but it was powerful. I like that it made me feel so strongly…even if it was nasty."

I ruffled his hair and Clare laughed, trailing slightly behind us. "Yeah, imagine having someone tell you they wrote that disturbing thing about you…talk about extra chills."

I knew Clare was just joking, keeping things light, but it hurt that she seemed so repulsed by the idea that I had dedicated my first real story to her. Was that really such an issue? They were both laughing at my expense, and I huffed, frustrated. "I'll see you two at lunch."

"Aw, Eli, come on," Clare called after me. "I didn't mean it like that." I kept walking, deciding it would be best to not say anything, but Clare ran after me, planting herself in front of me so I wouldn't be able to get away. "Eli, I'm sorry…I love your story."

"Then why are you so bothered by the fact that I've dedicated it to you…in more ways than just verbally? Why does that make you so stressed?"

"It's just…it's a murder plot! That you said was all about me…yeah, it wasn't one of your most romantic gestures, but I understood where you were coming from. I should have just told me that I was a little freaked."

"Yeah," I agreed, even more hurt, "you should have. But it's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"We're always yelling at each other these days," she pointed out sadly, hanging her head.

I sighed, all the anger instantly deflating from my body. "Clare, you know that I didn't mean the story was about you in a way that I would murder you, right? I meant that I love you enough to do whatever it takes to keep you…like Malcolm, but with reservations."

"Yeah, eventually I came to that conclusion, but, honestly, I can never be sure with you." She smiled to show she was joking, but I saw a bit of sincerity in her eyes, and, just as quickly as she had let it down, she put the guard back up. We had never been this careful around each other before.

"Sorry," I mumbled, not knowing what else I could say. "You should get to class, and so should I. I'll see you at lunch, Edwards."

"Okay," she agreed, backing away slowly. Why were we always walking on eggshells these days? Was it because of my behavior? Did Clare and Adam both think I was losing it?

My remaining morning classes past by slowly and painfully. I was so worried about everything with Clare that I missed every single lecture. Instead of notes I found myself doodling morbid pictures of black, mangled hearts all over the margins of my notebooks. Something had to give…and soon.

Right before lunch some student I didn't know called out my name, catching me in the hall on my way to my locker. "You're Eli Goldsworthy, right?"

"Yes…and you are?"

"Miss Dawes wanted me to find you. She wants to see you." And with that the girl was gone, racing back down the hall in the opposite direction. I rolled my eyes, stashed my books in my locker, and then made my way to Dawes' room.

I knocked lightly on the door frame when I saw that she was intently studying something on her desk. "Miss Dawes, you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, come on in," she gestured at me excitedly. All her energy just made me feel uncomfortable. I felt angry and frustrated and just plain sad. Her bright mood only made my gloominess seem worse. "This is really something, Eli," she boasted proudly, and as I approached her desk, I saw the copy of Stalker Angel open to the ending. I gave her a small, grateful smile. "Your writing is beautiful…it's macabre." My smile grew bigger; finally someone who understood the majesty of what I had written, macabre was the perfect word. Creepy and disturbing were less pleasing to me as the author, but I had understood why people felt that way. "But I-I wonder if there's anything you want to talk about…"

My smile disappeared instantly due to my confusion. "W-What do you mean?"

"Well," Miss Dawes started, smiling sadly at me. She looked genuinely concerned, but I had no idea why. "Your protagonist murders his fiancé; your theme is spending eternity with the one you love…it could be read as a- as a cry for help."

She seemed to struggle with her words, obviously not wanting to offend me. And here I had thought she was the first one to fully appreciate the story…she just thought I was going insane. Well, she would have to join the club. There was a long line of people just as concerned as she was, but I was determined to prove that I was in my right mind. I _was_. If there was something wrong with me I would think I'd be able to tell.

"It's fiction," I spoke slowly, trying to keep clam. I knew Dawes was just concerned. She was legitimately worried. I didn't have any right to be mad at her.

'I know," she assured me right away, "but as writers we tend to pull from our own life experiences for inspiration." Was she insinuating that I had murdered someone before to stay with them forever? Unless I was doing crazy shit in my sleep, I couldn't recall a time where I had acted as such. Of course…I was responsible for someone's death…inadvertently responsible, but…NO! I couldn't let my mind go there now or ever. Who cared if the date was so quickly approaching the anniversary of Julia's death? This story had nothing to do with Julia, and it wasn't about how I was going to murder Clare. Why couldn't anyone just _understand_ my intensions? Were they really that far beyond the social norm?

I released a dark, frustrated chuckle. "Miss, I'm going to kill Clare and drink her blood. I'm good."

So…I wasn't exactly good, per say, but I was fine in the context of the conversation. Miss Dawes studied me for a few extra seconds, perhaps detecting my distress and sorrow. Maybe she would call me on it. Maybe she would be able to offer insight on how to fix things. If she asked, I told myself, I would open up to her. I would talk about what was going on.

But, much to my dismay, she swallowed my lie. "Okay; it's my job to check. Congratulations, Eli. I'm real proud of you.' I smiled again, but the frustration resurfaced. "Hey, you know, the gothic fiction convention is in Bloomington over spring break. With Stalker Angel under your belt…might be worth checking out?"

Huh? A fiction convention…Clare and I loved fiction; it was our thing. Writing, reading…those were our passions. Maybe Adam was wrong…I could still come up with a plan that would uncomplicated things. Maybe Miss Dawes had helped after all… "Maybe it would; thanks," I told her sincerely. She nodded as I walked out of the room.

Instead of heading to the cafeteria, where Clare and Adam we undoubtedly waiting for my arrival, I walked out to the front of the school. I sat down on the steps and dialed my dad's cell phone number; he was the go-to guy for kind of tickets- including lit convention tickets. He had all the right connections.

"Eli, is everything alright there?"

I laughed at his greeting. "I hope when people call the radio station you go with a more formal greeting."

"Smart-ass," my dad accused and I laughed. "If nothing is wrong than why call me when you're supposed to be at school?"

"It's lunch, so I'm not missing anything important. Anyway, my English teacher told me about this gothic fiction convention in Bloomington…have you heard about it?"

"Sure, sure; Rick, from the radio, is going. He likes the more disturbing literature. I told him about your story, and he's excited to read it."

"Okay, so Rick would know where we could obtain tickets to this shindig, yes?"

"Fine, Mr. Subtlety, how many tickets do you want?"

"I was thinking four…because Mrs. Edwards probably won't let Clare go if it's just me and her."

Bullfrog let out a breathy sigh, and I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. "Nothing like a romantic gesture for your woman, huh? Okay, okay; I'll check with Cece and then I'll call Rick. Just…one thing."

"What is it Bullfrog?"

"You had better get me something really kick-ass for my birthday…which happens to be tomorrow…got it?"

"What makes you think that I don't already have something kick-ass?" I questioned stubbornly. Last month I had stumbled upon a whole bunch of old vinyl that I knew Bullfrog would go gaga for. Not to mention I had gotten him and Cece some tickets to an indie band they loved.

"Oh, yeah, what is it?"

"You're not exactly sly, you know. That was the worst attempt to weasel information ever. You'll just have to wait till tomorrow, old man. What are…like, 70 now?"

"I'm barely 40, thank you very much."

"The way you act suggests you're still 12."

"Eli, go back to school, you little fuck."

"Alright, alright; thanks again, Bullfrog. I love you."

"I love you, too, kid. Go…broaden your horizons." The line disconnected before I could respond with one last sarcastic comment.

I pocketed my phone, went to my locker to retire my brown-bagged lunch and made my way to the cafeteria. Adam and Clare were seated at our usual table, smiling and laughing. A ridiculous pang of jealousy shot through my spine unexpectedly. Clare never looked that carefree when she was around me anymore...

I ignored the worry, latching on to the idea that once Clare and I were on our Spring Break vacation together we could sort everything out. Once we had some time alone to distress and rediscover each other our relationship would fall back into the natural, happy rhythms I missed so much. I loved Clare through thick and thin, but it had been far too long since we had seen any thin.

I slowly approached the table and sat down across from Adam- next to Clare. She immediately slid closer to me…good sign. This trip to Bloomington would work…I was starting to become quite confident in that.

"Hey, beautiful," I smiled, sliding my hand around her waist. She didn't cringe away or pull it off, so I started to relax. Maybe she had found some way to temporarily ignore all the stress that had been making her snappy.

"Hi, handsome; where have you been?"

"I had a phone call to make. Why did you miss me?" Clare rolled her eyes, but she giggled.

Adam, on the other hand, was not amused. "Gross, guys. Sometimes I like it better when you're not getting along."

"Bite your tongue!" I demanded, and Clare threw one of her pretzels at him. Adam reciprocated with a carrot, and the two of them dissolved into laughter. "Yeah, and you two think I'm the weird one. Just try not to start a food fight, okay."

"Sure thing, _Dad_," Adam mocked before Clare and him tossed some of their food at me.

"I will not stand for this mutiny!" I called before I started to tickle her. Her face was bright red and there were tears running down her face before she surrendered. "You're next," I warned Adam jokingly, wiggling my fingers at him.

"Ew, weird, no. You had better not touch me, Goldsworthy."

"No trouble there, buddy," I assured him, holding my hands up in surrender. "So, Clare, what are you up to later?" If Bullfrog made good on his promise I would have the tickets by that afternoon. The sooner I asked her, the better. Then we would have something to look forward to together. Of course, that meant I would have to pay Mrs. Edwards a visit after school. I would probably have to take Bullfrog with me as backup, too. Clare's mom didn't trust me, but I hoped that if she had the chance to talk to my dad it would put all her worries at ease. And then I could surprise Clare. It was the perfect plan. I was pretty sure it was Mrs. Edward's week in the house with Clare.

"I'm dress shopping with Alli, remember?" Clare voice hardened just a tad, and I tensed slightly in response.

"Okay…well, if you get the chance text me when you're done. If you want to, of course."

"Yeah, sure, Eli," Clare smiled at me, the hardness gone as quickly as it had come. It was like she had expected me to force her to cancel her plans with Alli just to hang out with me. It wasn't like I had to be around her 24/7…I just liked to. "Is there a reason why?"

"That is classified information, my friend. You'll just have to call later to find out."

Clare and Adam rolled their eyes at me. "Eli Goldsworthy," Adam shook his head fondly at me, "there are sure some strange things that happen in that brain of yours."

I think he meant it as a joke, but while I let out a strangled laugh, Clare just looked down awkwardly at her hands, a small grimace on her face.

Bad sign- back to square one.

XXX

The rest of the school day was uneventful, but when I got home I was attacked.

"Oh, Eli I am so proud of yoooouuuu!" Cece drew out the word into more syllables than was strictly necessary, planting kisses all over my face.

"Hi, Mom…it's good to see you, too. Feel free to explain why you're smothering me at any time. Really, this isn't bothering me at all."

She pulled away, a sly smile on her face and I winked at her. She knew me too well than to take me seriously. "Baby boy, your writing was so…perfect! And that ending was bone-chilling. Where did you come up with that?"

"A writer's mind is a frightening place to live…so I would tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Cece just shook her head at me. "Whatever you say, sweetie; I'm going to have to get the story framed, or something. My baby is all grown up and published…and going to his first lit convention!"

"Oh, good, so Bullfrog did talk to you. I'm glad you're okay with it."

Why wouldn't I be? A few days' vacation with you, Bullfrog and Clare sounds wonderful! That girl is so exceptionally sweet."

"Yeah," I smiled to myself, letting my mind wander to a night in a hammock under a starry sky, and I sighed wistfully. To have those days back would be such a relief…fingers crossed about Bloomington. "She really, really is. So, where is Bullfrog anyway?"

"Picking up those tickets- he should be back soon."

I nodded and excused myself to my room. I plopped down at my desk immediately and started to work on my homework. About twenty minutes, and not much progress later, there was a knock on my bedroom door, and Bullfrog popped his head in.

"I've got the goods," he told me, lowering his voice.

"You sound like you're trying to deal me drugs."

"I'm ashamed you think so little of me…I would never stoop as low as dealing drugs to my kid. No, I'm much classier- strictly alcohol."

"If anyone was still wondering who I got my sense of humor from…"

"Damn straight," Bullfrog agreed, handing over the four, all-access passes to the Gothic Fiction convention.

"Thank you," I held up the tickets, smiling brightly. "Any chance you're still feeling generous?"

"Geeze, Kid- what could you possibly want now?"

"For you to come with me to ask Mrs. Edwards her permission to take Clare. I want to surprise Clare later, but I don't want to get her hopes up if Clare's mom won't let her go. And Clare's not home, so if we go now we can talk to Mrs. Edwards alone…"

Bullfrog gave me another overly dramatized sigh before he smiled. "I'll go with you on one condition." I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "You have to let me drive Morty; it's been a while and I want to make sure the ole trooper is still running right."

I tried not to groan since he was doing me a favor, but I really didn't like anyone else behind the wheel of my most prized possession. Either way, I dug the keys out of my pocket and silently handed them over. Bullfrog looked triumphant, and I followed him out the door and to the hearse.

The ride was a fairly enjoyable one. Bullfrog was surprised that I had been keeping up with Morty's high-maintenance needs, and he actually sounded pretty good…for a vintage hearse, anyway. I hashed out the details with my dad; reminding him that the Edwards were a conservative family…and that he needed to stress Clare and I would not be staying in the same hotel room. Bullfrog listened studiously and nodded when appropriate. The closer we got to Clare's house, the more excited I became. We were really doing this…it was going to be spectacular!

Bullfrog pulled up to the curb opposite Clare's house, and I saw Mrs. Edwards sitting on the front porch tending to some potted plants. I smiled to myself…perfect. "Okay, remember everything I said. I doubt Mrs. Edwards is going to make it easy for us."

He ignored my comment, getting out of the hearse, so I followed suit, suddenly a bit nervous. I mean, it wasn't like Clare's mom actually liked me.

"You owe me for this, kiddo," he reminded me again as we crossed the street. "Lucky for me it's my birthday tomorrow!"

I laughed at him, wondering how many hints he was planning on dropping. I had his gifts, and our annual hunting trip was already planned out. I had asked Adam last week if he was interested in coming, Bullfrog's idea, and Adam had been more than happy to oblige. He and Bullfrog had really bonded over kicking my butt at video games. They never played fair.

Okay, I prepped myself; it was time to focus on the task at hand.

Clare's mom looked up at our noisy approach. "Eli," she sounded shocked to find me on her front stoop, which, I supposed, was fair. I didn't really make a habit of showing up unannounced at Casa de Edwards. I didn't want to get Clare in trouble, and I most certainly didn't need to give her parents another reason to dislike me.

"Hi, Mrs. Edwards," I greeted her formally. "This is my dad, Bullfrog."

"Nice to meet you," she greeted him, sounding the most sincere I had ever heard her. I knew Clare was still upset and dealing, but her mom seemed to be doing much better with the divorce these days. She looked…happy. I mentally crossed my fingers that this wouldn't be too hard. "I'm sorry…Clare's not home right now."

"I'm here to ask your permission," I chose my words carefully, delicately.

Mrs. Edwards chuckled. You're not planning to propose…," she prompted, her voice insinuating that she found that idea hilarious and unappealing.

"No, no, no," I assured her quickly, Clare and I weren't ready for that yet. But who knew what the future had in store for us…well, here went nothing. "I-I wondered if Clare could come with me and my parents to Bloomington for two days. There's a lit convention she'd love."

The look on Mrs. Edwards' face was not a promising one. I anticipated her let down before the words even left her mouth. "Clare's only fifteen. I don't think it's a good idea, but I'll tell her you came by." Talk about a blow-off.

But I wasn't about to give up, though. Clare and I needed this time alone together. I just had to sincere and honest, and hope that Mrs. Edwards would hear me out. "Y-Your daughter's my best friend," I started, my voice passionate. "She's the kindest, most patient person I've ever met. She would love you for this."

Mrs. Edwards put down her flowers and studied my face for a moment, but there was no way she found anything but my love for her daughter.

"Well," she said after a long pause, "where would you be staying."

Bullfrog, sensing that Mrs. Edwards' question was his cue, stepped forward. "We booked two rooms at a hotel; Clare will bunk with my wife." She was actually considering this…I was flabbergasted…

"And you wouldn't let them out of your sight?" Mrs. Edwards asked, and I could almost taste her resignation on my tongue. Morty, Clare and I on the open road. It sounded perfectly cozy. I suddenly wanted it more than I had ever wanted anything before. It all just sounded so perfect, and it was so close to becoming a reality.

"I'll watch her like she's my own," Bullfrog assured charmingly, draping an arm around my shoulders to add to his point. I suppressed a chuckle at his performance.

After much deliberation… "Well, it's really up to Clare," Mrs. Edwards decided, and I wanted to give her a hug, or jump up and down- something!

"Thanks, Mrs. Edwards," I smiled at her brightly, and she nodded after me as Bullfrog and I walked back to Morty. I was so happy over our victory that I almost tried to make my way to the driver's side before I remembered I was riding shotgun again. But it was totally worth it…Clare and I were going to Bloomington together!

XXX

An hour or so after I talked to Clare's mom, Clare called me to tell me that she was done shopping with Alli. I asked if she was up for a little hang out, and when she told me to come pick her up I practically ran out the door. I could not wait to tell her about our plans for Spring Break. She was going to love this!

I parked Morty on the curb in front of Clare's house and waited for her to come out. When she did she was practically skipping to my car. "I have something for you," she smiled sweetly at me as she put her seatbelt on.

"Is that so?" I smiled back, loving her buoyant mood. It had been a while since I had seen Clare this relaxed. I guess she must have had a good time dress shipping.

"Yeah…hey, where are we going, anyway?"

My smile grew more pronounced as I made a snap decision. "How about somewhere we can be alone…our own little spot, you know?"

"Could you be more specific?" Clare chuckled at me.

"Are you opposed to hanging out at our abandoned church?"

"Not at all; that sounds fun!"

With a confirmed destination in mind I started driving toward our special hang out. On the way there Clare described some incident that had happened in her science class early that involved Alli accidentally mixing two chemicals that were _not _supposed to be mixed. Clare told me I should be happy that she's still alive, and I couldn't help but laugh at her adorable dramatics.

Once we actually reached the rundown church I surprised Clare by actually pulling Morty onto the overgrown forest floor. "What are you doing?" she cringed as I swung Morty around, nearly missing a tree in the process.

"I just figured we could sit on Morty's hood and talk since we don't have any chairs, or a blanket, and the ground is kind of dirty…and uncomfortable."

Clare laughed. "Always thorough, if nothing else."

"You know me so well," I joked, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "Now, you said that you have something for me, remember…?"

"Ah, yes," Clare reached into her bag and fumbled around a bit. "Here it is," she handed me a decorated CD. "It's a mix of all the songs that remind me of you."

"Clare, that's so sweet," I smiled sweetly at her, and she leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips once. I pushed the CD into Morty's disc player, and the first song blasted through the rolled down windows. I smiled, recognizing the familiar beat. "So," I said once Clare and I got out of the hearse and slid onto the hood, staring into the deep green abyss above us, "how was dress shopping?"

"I spent all afternoon talking Alli out of matching her earrings with her shoes with her dress _with_ her headband," Clare laughed, and my head spun just thinking about all that matching. "Let's just say Alli's never met a pink she didn't like." I let out a tiny laugh, not sure that I really cared about Alli. I wanted to know if Clare had found anything special. "Oh, my God," Clare squealed, and I thought she sounded a whole lot like Alli. They had spent the entire afternoon with each other. "I love this song."

I assumed Clare liked every song on the CD since she had made it, but perhaps this one was a favorite. Personally I had never heard it before, but it sounded really upbeat…right up Clare's alley. She hopped off the hood and leaned in the hearse to turn up the volume. And then, unexpectedly, she started to twirl around the forest. She looked so carefree and beautiful…it was almost too perfect of a picture not to say anything.

"Clare Middle-of-the-Road Edwards," I joked, but I should have known better. Of course all my jokes were taken the wrong way these days.

"I like it," Clare immediately got defensive, and the guard was back in her eyes. Why the hell did I open my big mouth? "It's happy- like spring time."

I decided it was best not to explain myself…things would jest get messier. "Okay," I gave in without even putting up a fight. "Sorry." I leaned forward, pulling the tickets out of my back pocket. "Speaking of fresh air…all-access passes to the gothic fiction convention." I smiled at her, waiting for her reaction.

I was expecting excitement, some kind of gratitude, maybe even a kiss, but I got Clare's anger instead and I didn't know why. "That's in Bloomington," she accused, obviously having already heard about the convention.

I refused to let her be unexcited about this. "I know; we're going on a Spring Break road trip in the hearse. My parents are chaperoning from the hog…your mom said you could go."

All of these things were good things- they showed that I had taken care to plan this out; taken care to make this perfect for Clare. But she still found something to be upset about, and I was frustrated. She was supposed to be excited with me, not dragging down the high I had been riding. What happened to the bubbly Clare that I had been hanging out with a few minutes ago?

"You talked to my mom?" she seemed offended.

"Yeah," I confirmed, confused.

"Why wouldn't you talk to me first?" Clare deadpanned.

"I-I wanted it to be a surprise," I tried to explain myself, to find some kind of enthusiasm in her about our road trip. "Something special for my girl," I told her tenderly.

Clare took a deep breath, and it looked like she was trying to regain her composure. She constructed her face carefully before meeting my eye again. "I can't believe you did all this…"

"This convention is a once in a lifetime opportunity- me, you and Morty," I slid closer to her, taking her hands in mine, "nothing in our way. It's a chance for us to reconnect," I told her softly, hopefully. We needed this…without this trip together…who knew how long it would take for our relationship to fall apart. Clare smiled a little, but she stepped away from me, pulling her hands out of mine. That was certainly not the reaction I had been looking for, but, as crushing as it was, maybe it wasn't totally unexpected.

I couldn't lose her, though. I needed her to stay with me. I needed her in order to survive.

"I just thought it'd be fun," I told her, dejected.

"Okay, I'll come," Clare said as if she was doing me a favor by coming. Didn't she want to mend our relationship, too? This was for both of us, after all.

"I thought you'd be a little more excited," I confessed, searching her eyes for any sign that she was still in love with me. All I saw was pain that echoed mine.

"What more do you want, Eli, I'm going?" she snapped, and I nodded, deciding not to push the issue further.

What was going on with her; with us?

I felt like our relationship was falling to pieces in front of my face, and Clare refused to help me pick them up so we could glue it back together.

She wanted us to stay broken, and the thought alone made me shatter.

**Whoa; sorry this took so long…I wasn't expecting there to be so many words. Well, I am sorry about the obscene length, but I hope, you like it! Let me know what you think?**


	2. The Break

**I've decided to write the four chapters of this story, and then I will focus on my other fictions. I just want to focus on Eli's mind so I can get all the emotions right.**

**Also, I must apologize. I have a very lame excuse for why Eli and Julia's names were in a heart on the wall at the abandoned church, but I couldn't ignore the bizarre fact that Degrassi made it randomly appear. Don't hate me for the frail plot point that is the graffiti. **

**So, without further ado, this is the second half of Drop the World- Part 1. **

She was so beautiful- heartbreakingly so. Yes, just looking at her broke my heart; the way her hair framed her face in gentle cascades, the way her eyes pierced right through my heart every time she looked at me, and the small, private smile she reserved just for me- perfection.

"Quit staring, Eli, you're going to make me blush," she chastised, her creamy cheeks stained pink despite her words.

"I can't help it," whispered back, "You're just too beautiful."

"Alas, beauty never lasts, Eli. You of all people should know that to be true," her voice grew dark and hard. I wanted to do something to fix it- the beautiful waves of her voice should not be allowed to crash so violently. Such a wonderful person should always be happy, carefree.

"Don't say that; some beauty will last forever. Like my love for you."

"When did you turn into an optimist, Goldsworthy? Does it have anything to do with that girl you've been seeing? She doesn't strike me as your type…not like I was; we were perfect together. But don't fucking tell me that your love for me lasts forever. I know you love her more than me. Not to mention, I'm dead, Eli. I never got the chance to last forever…and it's all _your fault._" Julia's voice was accusatory, and I reached forward to comfort her. I wanted to deny her words so badly, but I knew she was right. I would always be to blame.

"I'm sorry," I offered brokenly. I was sorry, but we both knew that would never be enough. That would never bring her back to life.

"Have fun spending your entire life trying to forget what you did to me," Julia shot back harshly, and I flinched. Our conversation had turned sour so quickly. I didn't want her to leave again…not like this. But when I took a step toward her she quickly retaliated with a step in the opposite direction.

"Julia," I plead desperately, but she turned and started running from me. And, out of nowhere, the headlights blinded me, and Julia was gone. The harsh cry of her pain was the only thing left to echo through my head.

I woke with a start, my breath quickly climbing toward the peak of hyperventilation. I could feel a cold sweat all over my body, and I quickly grabbed the padded quilt that must have fallen to my floor because of all the tossing and turning I had undoubtedly done. I checked my alarm clock, noting that it was three in the morning, while Julia's words echoed painfully through my head.

_I never got the chance at forever…and it's all your fault_.

I hung my head, and, giving in to all the pain of my shattered heart for the first time in ages, I started to sob like I had never sobbed before.

XXX

When my alarm went off I slammed on the button to turn it off. I hadn't been able to go back to sleep, but I had a lot of time to think about the implications of my dream, and everything that had happened with Clare the evening before…

After she had been less than excited about going on a trip with me things had grown exceedingly awkward. I offered to take her home, and she had gratefully accepted. After that Clare hadn't said a word to me- not a one. I had tried not to be disappointed about it, but I had lost all control.

As soon as Clare had closed her front door behind her, without saying goodbye to me, the panic had grabbed hold of my chest- like a giant fist squeezing until the constriction left me void of my breath.

And I couldn't bring myself to go back to Cece and Bullfrog in the condition I had been in. It would only bring them pain. I probably shouldn't have been driving either, but I manically navigated my way back to the abandoned church; it was the only place I could think where I could have been truly alone.

By the time I got there the tightness in my chest had only become worse…Clare's face was all I could see in my mind, and the edges had started to blur into oblivion. Had it not been for the shock of noticing a specific doodle on one of the church's walls I probably would have blacked out completely.

But as I paced the cluttered space I saw the bright white contrast against the blackness of the corroded wall and I stopped dead in my tracks. Every thought flew out of my mind, and I started at the writing, blinking hard. I thought maybe I would be able to make it disappear the harder I squeezed my eyes shut, but every time I opened them it was still there…and my stomach rolled at the sight.

I had glanced around the deserted space, trying to find any kind of familiarities, but I could have sworn that I hadn't seen the place before finding it with Clare.

When I had looked back at the wall the writing was still there, though, clear as day. The large heart with the names Eli and Julia seemed to be growing bigger every time I looked at it, and my breath had become shallow once more.

I had finally sat down on the ground to put my head between my knees so I could take some time to think. I tried to tell myself, at first, that it must have been the biggest, more bizarre coincidence in the history of mankind, but I knew that was unrealistic.

Besides, it was Julia's handwriting…of that I was sure.

After an hour of sitting on the ground I had pulled myself together enough to be thinking rationally. I made myself go into the vault of memories of Julia that I had viciously suppressed since the night of her death…thinking about them hurt in ways that could only be considered unhealthy.

But I finally remembered- it had been a night of recklessness.

Julia had showed up on my doorstep after another ugly fight with her stepmom, and she had begged me to take her away. She had wanted an adventure; some way to forget. I was upset about school, or my teachers or some other stupid triviality at the time, and was all too eager to get away as well.

She already had a bag full of clothes, ready to spend the night. I went and gathered my own things, and without leaving any indication for Bullfrog and Cece to know where I was going I disappeared with Julia.

The abandoned church had looked different then- the ivy and ferns had claimed it as their own at the time. That probably meant that Clare and I hadn't been the first ones to 'discover' the decrepit church…someone had to have cleaned it off at one point.

But Julia had spent the night in Morty's trunk together. That night had been the first time she had told me she loved me. I had been too frightened to say it back.

After we had woken up, though, Julia had vowed that we would be spending many other nights together in the future. She wanted to be together forever. She was the one who carved our names on the wall.

"Even though you can't say it yet, I know you love me, too, Eli," Julia had giggled as she traced the heart around our names.

To say that I had freaked out even more after remembering was an understatement. I drove home furiously, reaching speeds that were quite illegal. As soon as I was home I had locked myself in my room and paced the rest of the afternoon away. I had thought of Clare and our future, but mostly I thought of Julia and her lack thereof.

That was probably what triggered the horrid, vivid dream.

I looked around my room- cluttered as it was, it was still clean. I hadn't felt the urge to hoard in a month or so, and I knew all the credit went to Clare. But, as I stared miserably around the empty spaces, I wanted to have something to cling to. I longed for my junk filled sanctuary…I wanted to fill my room again with memories of not only Julia, but Clare as well.

And that terrified me. It was as if my neurotic mind had already lost Clare, even though we were just going through a rough patch.

Or was it just a rough patch?

No, no; I refused to think that way. No matter what I would not lose Clare. I couldn't lose Clare. She was the only think right in my messed up life. She was the one assisting me in putting it back together, and driving her away would be unforgivable. I needed to make sure that I didn't lose Clare…not like I had lost Julia. I could not go through that again, or it would for sure be the death of me.

I was determined to make sure Clare and I got back on track. There was no way in hell I was letting her go, and that was final.

With that in mind I propelled myself off the bed, not looking forward to my day at school. I hadn't gotten much sleep, and that dream was going to haunt me throughout my classes, I was sure of it.

After I was showered and dressed, I spotted the pile of presents on my desk that I had gotten Bullfrog for his birthday…which was now. I grabbed the stack of records and the envelope that contained the tickets and made my way to the kitchen.

Cece and Bullfrog were at the table already, eating breakfast and flirting. I hated them briefly for being happy when Clare and I weren't. It simply wasn't fair. But, on the other hand, I was happy that my parents were still very much in love. They made me believe that it was possible to find one person you could spend the rest of your life with and stay happy.

I wanted Clare to be that person for me. But, more than anything, I wanted _her_ to want to be that person.

But, ever since Fitz, whenever I mentioned the distant future, and the fact that I wanted our futures to stay connected, Clare shifted uncomfortably and muttered some noncommittal assurances. I chalked it up to the fact that her parent's divorce had left her skeptical about long-term relationships. But Clare and I were meant to be. We just needed that reminder…we needed the time alone.

"Happy birthday, Bullfrog," I muttered while I got myself a glass of water, throwing his presents on the table before making my way to the cabinet. I tried to muster as much enthusiasm as possible, but I knew my display was utterly pathetic.

Bullfrog and Cece ignored the presents at first, which was odd, and they watched me carefully.

"Are you feeling okay, baby boy?" Cece asked, her voice filled with nothing but concern.

"I guess; why?"

"I heard you knocking around in your room pretty early this morning…"

"Oh, that…it was nothing," I lied, trying to protect my mom from too much worry. "I had a bad dream was all; happens to the best of us, right?"

"You'd tell us if it was something more, right, son?" Bullfrog was eyeing me intently, and I knew he hadn't swallowed the lie as easily as Cece. "I mean the date is awfully close to-"

"I'm fine!" I cut him off before he could say the words I knew would make my face scrunch in pain, giving me away.

I could tell he didn't buy it, but he turned his attention to the presents anyway. "Okay…let's see what you got me in exchange for being the best father ever."

I chuckled at his cockiness, but it sounded strangled in my ears. I was in pain from pretending to be okay, but I had to do it for my parents. It would have been so much easier to stare dejectedly at the joy surrounding my parents like a bubble…my life excluded from that kind of emotion. And I only had myself to blame for screwing up so royally.

My dad thanked me for his presents wholeheartedly, but I was no longer there in mind. I just wanted to escape…from everything. Soon enough, it was acceptable for me to leave and I headed toward the sanctuary of Morty, the mock smile slipping off my face immediately.

When I arrived at Degrassi I found Clare already waiting for me at my locker and I sighed. Either she wanted to actually make amends, or she was there just because it was expected from her. I was leaning toward the latter and that made me uncomfortable.

"Hey," Clare whispered nervously as I approached, almost as if she expected me to lash out on her.

"Hi," I greeted her, equally nervous. There was just so much I wanted to say, but couldn't. I wanted to tell Clare that I loved her, and that I never wanted her to leave me. I wanted to tell her about the pain and about the dream of Julia. I wanted her to know what her cold exterior was doing to me. She needed to know that I would do anything I had to in order to fix our crumbling relationship.

But it was neither the time nor the place, and I feared it never would be.

"You look tired," Clare commented, and I might have imagined the trace of guilt in her voice. She reached forward and traced the dark circles under my eyes. I leaned into her touch, my eyes drifting closed.

"Yeah, there is no sleep for the wicked," I told her darkly.

"Eli," Clare started harshly, and I braced myself for her eruption. "You can't blame me for my reaction to your unexpected plans. I mean, maybe I already had plans for Spring Break! I appreciate what you're trying to do, but you should have talked to me first."

Her gentle hand disappeared from my face and I opened my eyes to glare at her. I didn't want to take out all my anger and pain and issues on Clare, but what she said really pissed me off…and I lost it. "I really don't think you do appreciate what I was trying to do! I can feel you slipping away from me Clare, little by little, and I thought time alone would help fix our problems, but you seem dead set against being there for me. What about what you promised me, huh? You can't stay with me if you won't tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing is wrong! I told you, I'm just stressed. There is nothing wrong with our relationship, and I won't leave you. I told you that! Is that what you wanted to hear; are you happy now?"

"No I'm not fucking happy, Clare," I screeched, and heads turned in our direction. I couldn't bring myself to care that we were making a scene, though. "Do I look happy to you? We can't be together without yelling; how could you say there is nothing wrong? I just want to fix it! I want it to get better so we can get back to being in love. I want to get past whatever this is so we can go on and spend the rest of our lives together. Why won't you help me do that?"

Clare sighed, and I could physically see her retreat back into some kind of shell. There was some place in her mind that she was keeping from me, and I figured that if she opened up about whatever she was hiding in that secluded corner we would be able to make some progress. "Okay…clearly we need to talk, but this is not the place," Clare conceded, her eyes sweeping the crowd that was giving us cursory glances. "Can I come over tonight? We'll watch a movie and just be together…without yelling. I promise; I will keep my promises."

I wanted to weep with joy that she was finally going to work on this with me. I was so relived, in fact, that I almost agreed on the spot. But then I remembered the hunting trip I was expected to go on this afternoon.

I sighed, defeated. "It's Bullfrogs birthday today. I told you about the annual hunting trip, right?"

"Oh, right," Clare smiled softly. "Tell him I said happy birthday. And we'll have our movie date tomorrow night, okay?"

"That sounds perfect."

With a kiss to her cheek, Clare and I went our separate ways. My classes, which I had expected to be horrid, were actually tolerable since I had something to look forward to. Although it was a lot of pressure to put on one night, the balance of Clare's and my relationship, we had made it through some pretty rough situations. We would make it through this one; now that Clare was willing to talk we would make it through anything.

When school was over I found both Adam and Clare at my locker.

"You ready for this?" Adam asked excitedly. "This is the first time I've ever been hunting…"

"Well, it's not too exciting. We sit there and wait for dumb birds to come around, and then we shoot. Well, my aim sucks, so Bullfrog shoots. I just go along to keep him company. And you're coming to keep me company."

"That still sounds fun to me," Adam smiled, and I couldn't help but feel envious of his never-ending optimism. He really was a special person.

"Well you boys enjoy yourselves," Clare flashed her brilliant smile at both of us.

"Can I call you when we get home?" I asked her, anxious for some reason unknown to myself.

"I have a lot of homework to get done…especially since I won't have tomorrow afternoon to do any. I'll, um; I'll call you at some point in the afternoon, okay?"

I was disappointed, but I remained resigned. "Okay, I'll talk to you later. Love you, Clare."

"I love you, too…enjoy yourself, Adam."

"Thanks; see you!" Adam called after her enthusiastically before he turned to me. "I thought you guys sorted things out?"

"I'm not really sure what we have and have not done," I admitted, a bad taste on my tongue.

"Um…sure…okay; come on, Mr. Mopey. You need to get your mind off Clare, so maybe shooting at things will help. Because we're men!"

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Speak for yourself- shooting at things won't make my relationship with Clare whole again."

"But it might help you release some pent up frustrations. Come on, man, it's your dad's birthday. Can you at least pretend to have fun for tonight?"

I rolled my eyes, and then plastered the biggest, phoniest smile on my face. "How's this?"

"Perfect," Adam chuckled, and we made our way to Morty.

My dad was already waiting on the front lawn with all the gear when I pulled up to the curb. He looked ridiculous dressed in the camouflage and the bright orange vest. He was clutching the gun, a huge smile on his face. "Adam, so great that you can join us; it's going to be a hell of a party!" Bullfrog declared. "Why don't you boys change out of the uniforms and I'll load up the hearse."

"I wish my dad was half as cool as yours," Adam laughed, his mood only increasing in pleasure even though we hadn't done anything yet. I really wanted to borrow some of his excitement…it would be easier to pretend for my dad if I had even a fraction of his energy.

After we had both changed and stashed our backpacks in my room we went to meet Bullfrog back out front. I was expecting to come back to my dad in the same giddy mood we had left him, but Bullfrog had his arms crossed and an intensely worried expression on his face- he was standing in front of Morty's trunk.

"Dad, is everything okay?" I asked, concerned…I rarely ever called him dad out loud unless the situation was serious, and he looked like someone had died.

"You tell me, Eli. I thought you were managing your hoarding…?"

"I-I am," I said, confused. I glanced back and forth between Bullfrog and Adam, the latter now staring at me with similar concern as the former. There was no possible way that Bullfrog knew anything about my urge to hoard extremely early that morning. I was the only one that should have been terrified by the real possibility of a relapse. I was keeping my parents safe; they would live in the blissful world where Clare had cured me for good.

"Then how do you explain this?" Bullfrog questioned, concerned. He gestured to the inside of Morty, and I walked over to take a look at my trunk.

When I saw it I flinched a little; I was too caught off guard to catch myself. I could tell where Bullfrog's concern was coming from…I didn't remember letting the trunk of my hearse get that cluttered, but it definitely looked like a subdued ghost of my room. Wrappers, a few blankets, extension cords, notebooks, and other junk filled the generous amount of space and I gulped nervously, racking my brain for a way to explain myself.

Adam, who had approached while my brain had been racing a mile a minute, let out a low whistle. "Dude…"

"It's nothing guys, really," I lied expertly. "I was helping Clare clean out her garage the other day and we must have forgotten to get rid of the excess junk we stashed in Morty. I'll get rid of it all tomorrow after school, no big deal. I promise."

They both started at me for an immeasurable amount of time, both of them desperately wanting to believe me. I crossed my fingers, waiting for their enthusiasm to bounce back. I just wanted them distracted with the trip again so I could freak out to myself…I needed to remember when I had let myself come undone enough to start stashing in Morty.

"Fine then," Bullfrog decided finally, the smile coming back to light up his face. "Let's get this show on the road!"

I exhaled the tension as we all loaded in Morty's front seat, Bullfrog at the wheel and I was left squished between him and Adam. The ride to the designated hunting area was kind of lengthy, but Bullfrog and Adam turned up the radio and started singing along. Their goofiness left me smiling just slightly. They were having such a good time, and I didn't want to bring them down, so I started to sing along, too.

We finally reached the woods where gunplay was allowed, and I helped Bullfrog unload our supplies as Adam pulled out the bright orange hats that Bullfrog brought along for us so we wouldn't accidentally get shot at. I scowled at the brightness of it, but slipped it on my head regardless. Then, since we were all ready, Adam and I followed Bullfrog into the woods.

Once he finally found a spot he was satisfied with, Bullfrog cautioned us to all get down on the ground. It was cold and boring waiting for some kind of fowl to cross our path, but Dad was not giving up. He missed the first few acceptable wild Turkeys, and it started to get late.

After Bullfrog shot at, and missed the third bird, I was getting anxious. I knew Clare had told me that she would call, but it had been a few hours and she hadn't. I was already on edge from the unexpected flair up of hoarding, and I needed Clare's voice to calm me back down. I desperately wanted to call her and ask how the homework went…ask her if she would be up to joining us for Bullfrog's birthday dinner…but when I pulled my cell phone out I couldn't get a signal.

"Dang, missed again," Bullfrog commented after the shot was fired. As if sensing my sudden impatience, he turned to Adam and me, "we're not leaving until we catch my birthday dinner boys." I nodded in slight acknowledgement as I held my phone up higher…trying to get any kind of signal. And was that really the time? "Would you stop waving that thing around. You'll scare the wild turkey," Bullfrog whispered to me, annoyed.

"Can we go now?" I asked, despite what Bullfrog had just said…the trips had never felt quite so long before, and I just wanted to be home. I also wanted to call Clare. I needed to call Clare…before I did something rash.

"He wants to call his giiirrrllfriend," Adam mocked, catching on to my anxiousness.

"Oy vey," Bullfrog rolled his eyes at me, but winked. He loved Clare, too, after all. Cece and Bullfrog owed their peace of mind over me to her, and they both knew it. "Oh," Bullfrog muttered, catching my attention again. About thirty paces away was a huge bird, and it looked like Bullfrog was ready to attack. "Stay low and keep your voices down," he commanded before standing up to sneak toward the turkey.

"Hey," Adam nudged me in the side with his elbow, "what's wrong with you?" So maybe he hadn't swallowed my lie about the garage so easily. He had just been waiting for a private moment to ask me what was going on. I supposed there would be no harm in telling him about my issues…after all, he was the one who warned me that my plans usually make things worse, but I hadn't listened. Adam would love the chance to say that he had told me so.

"Clare wasn't as excited for the trip as I thought she was going to be," I started, figuring that was the easiest way to explain the intricate mess that surrounded Clare's and my relationship at the moment.

"Well maybe a surprise wasn't the best approach," Adam tried to reason with me. "Since past surprises with you have been…"

Adam trailed off, and I could tell he was trying to avoid hurting my feelings. "Intense?" I offered.

"And scary…," Adam pointed out. "Dead girlfriend, hoarding," Adam stopped, giving me a meaningful look when he brought my hoarding into the conversation again. Nope, he didn't believe the garage excuse for one second. But I wasn't in the mood to talk about that…we were discussing something infinitely more important- Clare.

"Clare has saved me from myself all year, hasn't she?" I spoke the words out load, trying to sum up to the world why she was such an important asset to my life. It just didn't make sense for her to start having a problem with all my issues now. Without her, who knew where I would be. Who knew where I would go if I lost her; if she stopped saving me.

"Well she does like you even though you're kinda loco," Adam joked, trying to lighten the mood again. "Maybe, uh, give her a break," he suggested, and just the word sent uncomfortable shockwaves to my heart. I didn't want to pressure Clare, or be a burden, but the idea of putting any kind of space between us was terrifying. What if spending time alone made Clare happier, less stressed? Would she finally realize that I didn't deserve her and leave me behind? I was too selfish to want that kind of liberation for her. I depended on her too much to let her go now.

"Yeah," I offhandedly deflected Adam's request with a bit of hope that I was still clinging onto. "And after two days in the hearse we'll be perfect again."

As I was talk another shot was fired. "I got it," Bullfrog cried elatedly, and Adam and I rose to our feet to meet up with him. Finally we would be able to leave.

I watched with disgust as Adam helped Bullfrog load the turkey into Morty while I carried the gun behind them. Bullfrog let me drive the way back home, and Cece was all ready to start preparing the bird for the big dinner.

Adam worked to keep me busy while Cece and Bullfrog worked together in the kitchen. We played video games and even did some homework, but I just couldn't stop thinking about Clare, and our movie date the next night. If I didn't find out what was going on then I didn't know what I would be able to do anymore. My sanity was hanging by a thread that was Clare.

Once dinner was finally ready Adam, Cece and I joined in a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday…making sure it was extra load and obnoxious just for Bullfrog.

Eventually, the evening and jokes came to a close, and Cece offered to take Adam home because I looked, and I quote, "like death warmed over."

Since I was still running on an hours sleep, and I was crushed because Clare never called, I graciously accepted Cece's offer. Once she was gone, and Bullfrog had left for his slot on the radio show, which he had to switch with someone else to make the family dinner possible, I locked myself in my room. I changed into my pajamas and collapsed on my bed- utterly exhausted.

Whatever the next day had in store for me, I hoped it was better than everything that had transpired in the last 24 hours.

I didn't know how much longer I could take my situation.

XXX

The next morning at Degrassi Clare was nowhere to be found. Granted, neither was Adam, but I was not concerned that Adam would disappear from my life at any given second.

History was dull and seemed to drag on for an eternity, but English did roll around eventually.

I took my time getting to the classroom, and when I arrived Clare and Adam were already seated and talking. Clare looked tired, beaten. Adam looked like he was compensating for her mood by being overly expressive.

"Bullfrog's birthday was great; we all had lots of fun. Eli was just a little worn out…I think he's driving himself mad with worry over something," I heard Adam say pointedly.

"I wonder what that could be," Clare commented, her voice guarded. Sure enough, as I lowered myself into my seat Clare had focused intently on the top of her desk, a blush coloring her cheeks. I would have to thank Adam later for trying.

"Hey guys," I greeted them awkwardly. "Where were you two this morning?"

"I had a yearbook thing," Clare said.

"And Drew was talking my ear off. I swear I tried to escape, like, five times. He almost made me late to class."

"Oh," I commented lamely. All the tension was suffocating me, and I wondered if Adam and Clare felt the same way.

"Hey, um, Eli…," Clare started, making me instantly uncomfortable. I looked up to meet her eyes and she looked guilty. "I told Alli I would have lunch with her…I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," I told her, though my heart had dropped painfully. "You can do whatever you want, Clare. You don't have to…run it past me first."

"I know," Clare snapped anxiously. "I just didn't want you to be confused when I wasn't there."

"Well, um, thanks."

"Awkward," Adam murmured under his breath and I shot him a dirty look.

"I'll still see you later, though, right?"

Clare worked up a smile, and it was almost painful to see the amount of effort she was putting behind it. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be over your house around five."

I nodded as Miss Dawes breezed into the classroom; she always had such impeccable timing.

The day felt like one of the longest I had ever endured, and there were quite a few days in which I had felt like the clock refused to budge. Julia's funeral, for one, had been the longest two hours of my life. But waiting to be alone with Clare was like a slow torture; a gradual burning of my skin until there was nothing left of me but ashes. I hoped she had enjoyed her lunch with Alli, at least.

When the last bell finally sounded I took a deep breath. Only a few more hours to endure and I could act as crazy as I wanted in the comfort of my own room. I would be free to go to metaphorical pieces once I was out of the public eye.

I walked to my locker and, when I opened it, a note fluttered out. I bent to the ground to retrieve it- noting my name scrawled across the top in Clare's handwriting. _Please don't let this be bad news…_

'Eli,' it read, 'Remember the first time we hung out we skipped school? You took me to this perfect bench right by our second favorite coffee house. Well, I think we need to talk, and I kind of thought the bench might be the ideal place. It was where we began and all...I'm headed there right now. I hope to see you soon.'

I smiled; my mind unable to come up with any way that this could be a bad sign. Clare was taking us on a trip down memory lane…that bench was ours, in a way. I remembered the moment with her so clearly. Not to mention she obviously couldn't wait until our date to see me…this was the first time in a while that she had requested we hang out, not the other way around.

Hope, beautiful and pure, filled my chest, and I felt instantly buoyant.

I packed my bag and sprinted toward Morty. It didn't take me a long time to get to the general area of our bench, but the place was crowded, so parking was tight.

After I finally found a spot for my hearse I hopped out and started running. I saw her before she saw me. She was seated and staring at her hands, obviously deep in thought about something.

"Clare," I called out catching her attention. I reached the bench, but I had already built up too much momentum to stop, so I slid down it closer to her. As I did so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders…it was smooth…I would have to remember how I did that for future reference. I was feeling giddy for the first time all week; Clare asking me to meet her had definitely given me a boost in mood. "So, what brings us to our special bench?" I prompted her, wondering why she had called me there in the first place.

But Clare shrugged her shoulder, slipping my arm off, and I instantly tensed as I caught the tenor of her mood. Oh, no…no, no, no, no. This was not happening. Not here, not now. This couldn't happen. My heart started to race, and my palms started to sweat as I anticipated Clare's news. I had thought this was a good sign; I held my breath as the hope ebbed out of my heart…it left nothing but a grey feeling behind.

Clare turned to me, and there was a terrible pain in her eyes. She looked sad, but determined. My worried intensified. "We've been tough on each other lately," Clare started, her gaze holding mine. Although, I didn't know how anyone could stand to look at the pain that was undoubtedly etched into my eyes for that long of a time. I certainly wouldn't want to watch the way her words affected me through the window of my own eyes. "I've been tense, you've been-"

"Intense," I finished for her, almost relieved that she hadn't broken up with me on the spot. This was the talk I wanted, right? I had the chance to save this. "I'm sorry. But i-it's because we care about each other," I insisted. After all, I had only been so intense all week because I wanted Clare to talk to me…I wanted to know what was wrong so I could fix it. Clare had been tense because…she didn't want to hurt my feelings with what she had been thinking? I didn't know. What I did know what that we loved each other. We could work this out…

"I get it now, Eli," Clare told me, a painful understanding in her eyes that instantly confused me. "You're scared of losing me after Julia."

The words hit me like a train on a track…straight for the most vulnerable place in my heart- loss. Of course I was afraid of losing Clare, terrified even. After Julia died I had thought I would never be able to go on, but Clare had fixed that. She had showed me that life goes on; you find love again. But my fear of losing her was because I loved her so much. Yeah, losing Julia only intensified my feelings, but I was unclear on how she fit into the conversation with Clare.

"But," Clare continued, driving the stake deeper into my heart, "you've got things to deal with. You're pressuring me because you're not over her."

I immediately defended myself. "I am over her," I insisted. And it was true…I was one hundred percent over Julia. I had Clare to thank for that. I mean, a part of me would always feel guilty for what happened to her, that I got to live while she never had the chance, but that didn't mean I was still in love with Julia. She would always be connected to my life in ways that I couldn't reverse, but I loved Clare. How dare she question my commitment to her and only her.

"Then why did you plan a trip over the anniversary of her death?" Clare shot back.

I supposed that I had done that…but that was less to do with Julia and more to do with the fact that spring break was a convenient time for us to get away and fix our shattering relationship. Julia had nothing to do with it! "It's a coincidence, I swear!" It wasn't my fault that Spring Break landed around the same time as Julia's death. Or that the Gothic Fiction convention was the same weekend. None of it was my intention…

"How could this not be about her?" Clare demanded, the hurt in her voice palpable. "Everything else has been about Julia- the hoarding, the worrying."

"That's…that's not true," I plead. And it wasn't true. Yes, the hoarding had been a product of losing Julia, but all my worrying I did because I wanted to keep Clare safe because I loved her. Where was this coming from anyway? If Clare had felt this way about the Julia thing than why hadn't she come to me about it sooner? Why had she waited until the situation had escalated seemingly out of hand? I had so many questions, but I didn't have answers. "It's about you Clare; it's only about you. Give me a chance…I'll prove it." My voice sounded pathetic in my own ears. I was begging her to stay with me, just not in so many words. But would she? I hated that I was so uncertain.

"And I bet you could," she sounded like she was holding back tears, a note of finality in her voice. What was going on? Why couldn't I stop it? Her eyes were searching my face, and I wondered what she found there. I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to hold her in place. I couldn't let her leave me…I didn't know how to deal with that; not again. It had been bad enough the first time, but losing Clare? How would I cope with that? "But, Eli," she finally spoke again, her voice thick with the unshed tears. "I think…that we should take a small breather…not in a bad way."

I let the impact of her words settle around me. Okay…what did a 'small breather' mean exactly? It didn't mean that she wanted to break up, right? Maybe I could handle that…maybe…doubtfully. I needed her near me, not far away. "Cancel our movie date?" I suggested, wanting to give her what she wanted, but also trying to keep what I needed. She said not in a bad way…how could space not be a bad thing?

"I was thinking more like a few days," she said, looking away from me. "It'll be good for us," she urged.

A few days without Clare…the thought alone was enough to pierce right through my heart with pain. How the hell would that be good for us! Our problems weren't going to go anywhere…we needed to figure them out as soon as possible, and we needed to figure them out together. "I disagree," I countered passionately. I put my arm back around Clare, pulling her closer to me. "After everything we've been through- the Fitz stuff- we need time together, away from everybody…just the two of us!"

"Stop it!" Clare stood up, putting more space between us. My heart dropped into the soles of my shoes. I couldn't take her being upset; I wanted to be the one to make her happy again. Why wouldn't she let me be the one to make her smile like old times? How had we come this far only to fall apart? "You're suffocating me," Clare accused. "You make all these plans, talk about forever…I know you're scared." She didn't know the half of it. I was petrified, and she was about to make me face my biggest fear- losing her, if only for a little bit. I didn't know how I would live through it. I loved her. I needed her. _I loved her_! Tears started to fill my own eyes as the reality of what Clare was doing took hold of my emotions. What I wouldn't give for a time machine…I would go back and fix everything I had done wrong. That was, if I knew what I had done wrong. "This Spring Break trip is a bad idea; I'm sorry."

I couldn't say anything. I couldn't access my heart or my brain…I was suddenly cold, freezing. I wanted to be numb so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain, but even retreating to the blackness of my mind couldn't keep the ache in my heart completely at bay. I had finally done it…I had driven the most important person in my life away.

I watched Clare cross the street and head away from me…I leaned back into the bench, and tried not to feel the pain. I tried desperately not to think.

While I was still numb I tried to walk back to Morty. Somehow I made my way back to the hearse, and, even more surprising, I was able to drive myself back to my house. I didn't know who was home, but I made sure to avoid everyone on the way to my room.

Once the door was locked…the pain invaded my senses. Losing Julia was a weak echo compared to the way my heart was beating out a pained, uneven song of loss. I couldn't catch my breath, and the tears streamed down my face…each one felt like a razor blade. I cried, sobbed, for hours.

And then, finally, the hurt and betrayal and excruciating pain made way for a different emotion…fury.

I was suddenly filled with rage at the situation, at myself. I couldn't bring myself to be angry at Clare, but there was someone who I could be pissed at…someone who deserved my hatred at that moment.

It was all Julia's fault, apparently, that Clare felt alienated and left behind. Julia was clearly responsible for this break Clare wanted to go on, and, even though she was dead, I suddenly felt the urge to kill her. I wanted to make her hurt…I wanted someone to share even an ounce of the heartache I was dealing with in that moment.

Something Adam had said the day before came to me in a moment of insanity…something about shooting at things being a form of ridding myself of my pent up emotions. I wanted an outlet for all my anger…the gun was never unloaded from the hearse…it seemed perfect. A creative and satisfying way to express my utter hatred for Julia because she was the reason Clare had walked away…that image running on a loop in my head. Julia was the reason I had just another morbid nightmare to add to the list…another terrible event to forever feel guilty about.

Julia needed to feel my loss.

Without any more thought, I ran to my closet and grabbed the picture frame that contained the only picture of Julia I still kept on display. It was one of her and me together…neither of us was smiling, but it was taken shortly after our first night together.

I got in Morty, with the picture in hand, and started to drive. My subconscious mind knew where I wanted to go before my conscious one did…a place that held significance in my relationship with Clare, but also with Julia.

I arrived at the abandoned church in record time. I grabbed the picture from the seat beside me, and retrieved the gun from the back.

As I approached the decrepit building I tossed the gun and the picture to the side. I wanted to lash out…and I needed the perfect setting to do so. I cleared away the clutter in front of the stupid wall with the stupid heart on it. I threw all the wooden planks out of my way in a temper tantrum. The situation was just too messed up for words.

Once all the shit was out of my way I grabbed the picture of Julia and placed it on the ledge aggressively…right under our names.

And then, finally, I turned off my mind, and just let myself lose all rational thought to the anger. All it took was one look to Julia's smug, bitchy face. It was nothing like Clare's. She was always warm and open. I lost it…

"This is all _your FAULT_!" I shouted at the picture. I was seething. I wanted to break something…or everything. "Clare hates me because of you," I informed the bitch…the words tasting like acid on their way out. "You ruined my life." All my problems with hoarding…my inability to sleep comfortably at night…how I could never hold onto love…all Julia's fault. Maybe I shouldn't feel guilty that she had died. She deserved it. I wouldn't let her control me anymore…she could no longer have such a hold on my life.

I went and grabbed the gun, aiming it at Julia's face… "Not anymore," I vowed, and then I pulled the trigger.

'_You made my life a living hell_,' I thought as I watched the glass shatter and the picture go up in flames and smoke. '_I'm glad you're fucking dead. Have fun rotting in hell._'

And then…for the first time all week…I smiled.

A genuine, manic smile.


	3. Space, or not to Space

**This is the last chapter before Eli gets really challenging to write; I'm nervous for when he loses it…**

**Anyway, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing and being awesome in general! I really appreciate all the feedback and love. So, thanks. =D**

It was not the end of the world.

It felt like the end of the world, but it wasn't; not yet.

I took another deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. It was two in the morning and I hadn't fallen asleep; my mind was too restless. After I had given all my anger an outlet it had made room for the pain…endless pain that was sure to crush me with its weight.

But Clare and I weren't over, I reminded myself over and over, we were just taking a break- whatever that meant. It hurt, though, that she wanted time apart in the first place. And her reasoning for splitting us up…I just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Julia…Clare thought every aspect of our relationship related back to Julia somehow. That hurt me most of all.

I loved Clare, and it wasn't your average, run-of-the-mill high school romance; I really loved her. Everything that we had gone through, and yes, I counted getting over Julia one of the hurdles we had overcome, had only made us stronger. Clare and I shouldn't work- she was the kind-hearted Christian girl who saw the best in everyone and was genuine in her desire to make the world a better place. I was the cynical, deeply sarcastic atheist who had been irreversibly damaged by the past and always looked for the darkness instead of the light. But somehow we managed to complement each other. Clare made me want to be a better person and I showed Clare that there was more to life than always saving people. We were meant for each other.

Julia was not the basis of our relationship. Clare's and my friendship had been the basis of our relationship, actually. How had we lost sight of that?

As much as it hurt, though, I couldn't push Clare anymore. I had already done that, and it had forced her to need a break from me. So I would have to give her the space she wanted.

It would hurt like hell, but I would give her space.

I just wanted to clarify something to Clare before I officially left her alone. I closed my eyes, and instead of going to sleep, I planned out the best way to approach Clare the next morning.

When I opened my eyes I was surprised to find that I had finally drifted off for a bit. It wasn't long enough for me to feel rested, and I knew I had a rough day ahead of me. It was Friday…the day of the dance…the day Clare and I would be leaving for the Gothic Tales convention. I wasn't sure where we stood with that.

And I wouldn't know until I talked to her.

With a heavy sigh I launched myself out of bed and got ready for school. I felt…heavy; like just moving was a difficult task to complete. I didn't feel like myself.

I got ready and ate breakfast in a daze. All I could think about was Clare and how her face had looked when she told me she needed a break. I hated causing her pain.

Fuck, my thoughts were all over the place. It was like I couldn't get a firm grip on any of them- they were slimy toads all running loose in my mind, unable to be captured. Why was I so erratic? Was this break with Clare messing with my health? Damn, I really did need her.

"Are you okay, baby boy?" Cece asked, breaking into my scattered thoughts. "It doesn't sound like you've been getting much sleep lately."

"I'm…," I considered telling Cece about the split, about my racing mind, but decided I could handle it on my own. I didn't want to stress her out. "I'm just really anxious for this break. I need some time off from school; it's stressful."

"The vacation to this literature convention should be a nice change of pace, huh?" she was still eyeing me funnily, but it seemed like she wouldn't press the issue further.

"Sure will," I complied glumly. What if Clare wouldn't come with us? "I've got to head to school. I, um, I really love you, Cece; I'm sorry I'm such a handful sometimes."

"Oh, Eli, I love you, too- handful or not."

I gave my mom a sad smile and then took off. I parked Morty, and just as I got out of the car I spotted Clare walking toward the front of the school. She looked up and met my expectant gaze, a crushing look of fear and reluctance in her own, expressive eyes. She started to give the space I was standing an even wider berth and she put her head down. Her pace quickened, and I was pretty sure my heart dropped into the soles of my feet.

We were taking a break, but did she have to treat me like some kind of pariah?

"Clare," I spoke softly, but I knew she could hear me. She slowed down just a tad, and I crossed over to the back of Morty where I could intercept her path. "Can we talk?" She kept walking as if she hadn't heard me. "Please," I begged her. I wasn't asking for much. I just wanted one, quick conversation before I gave her the space she had requested. Of course, she didn't know that, so I couldn't really blame her for wanting to run. It still hurt, though.

Clare seemed to consider my request for half a second before halfheartedly complying. "Hey," she started, crossing closer to me, but still leaving an unnatural amount of distance between us.

"Hey, I answered, feeling the irony of our subdued, anticlimactic greeting. She met my gaze for a moment, and I saw the pain in her eyes. I wanted to kick myself for being the cause. "I'm sorry for being Mr. Intense," I apologized sincerely. "Planning that trip behind your back was my best idea." That was the understatement of the century, but not what I really wanted to dwell on at that moment. There was a more pressing manner that I wanted to bring up before backing down. I made sure that Clare would hold my gaze and really listen before I continued. "But the fact that you think I'm not over Julia…it's hurtful; after everything we've been through?"

"You can't blame me," Clare instantly defended herself. And she was right, I couldn't. Everything was clearly my fault…somehow I had given her the idea that Julia was the center of our relationship, and I kind of hated myself for that. "Everything has been about her."

"I know," I sighed…I knew Clare felt that way. She had said so the other afternoon- right before she had crushed me. And I wasn't going to get the opportunity to show Clare that Julia had nothing to do with my love, worry or protectiveness of her.

"You're so unpredictable," Clare told me sadly, "I can't stomach it."

Ouch, that comment would keep me up for a few nights, no doubt. "Didn't you fall for the unpredictable, mysterious guy?" I asked desperately, grasping at the chance to make her take it back…take all the hurt and pain away by calling off this break. We weren't going to fix anything while we were apart. We needed to talk.

"No," Clare started, and I deflated immediately. "I fell for the guy who had the confidence to tell me I have pretty eyes, but was more interested in my brain." I looked back up at her in hope. I was still that guy; we were just…getting lost in translation somewhere.

"Has that changed?"

"I don't know," Clare answered as honestly as she could, and I knew there was nowhere to go from there for the time being. It was time for me to commit to this excruciating 'space' plan.

"I want to give you space, like you said," I assured her. I wanted to do anything that would make her happy at the moment.

"I'd like that," she seemed pleased by the fact that I would willingly leave her be now that I had my talk.

"And no more secrets or surprises," I promised. During our time apart I would work on being that guy she fell in love with again. I needed to be that guy if it meant keeping Clare.

"Or unexpected twists?" she asked playfully, but seriously.

"I'll leave that for my writing," I joked back, feeling better already. The light banter only lasted a few seconds, but they were seconds that reminded me of the way we used to be. Where had this Clare and Eli been for the last few weeks?

I turned toward Morty, opening the trunk to receive my backpack. I figured Clare and I were done talking so she had walked away…it was almost time for class, after all. Still, when I saw the gun that I had forgotten to unload, I quickly pulled the blanket over it, covering up my temporary insanity from the world. Damn, it really was a mess it my trunk. Whatever, I would have to clean it later, and remember to remove the gun.

I slammed Morty closed and was surprised to find Clare there…waiting for me. Before I even had the chance to register the fact that she hadn't, by work of some kind of miracle, fled the second I gave her the opportunity, her arms were around my neck, hugging me tightly to her. A surprised, pleasant smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I had no idea where this was coming from, and I was pretty sure it didn't count as space, but I liked it. I reluctantly, still afraid she might disappear into thin air, wrapped my arms around her waist and squeezed back- the gun completely forgotten in lieu of Clare's sudden act of tenderness.

"Walk me to my locker?" she requested timidly in my ear.

I didn't want to ask my next question because it would be a reminder of what she really wanted, but I had to. This was all just too weird, and I didn't want Clare to feel like she owed me anything. We had to do this her way so that she could be happy. "What happened to giving you space?" I asked her sarcastically.

"Not right now," Clare pulled away, smiling at me. "Let's go," she grabbed my hand and started to pull me along. Well, it seemed like she wasn't hugging me out of pity. I had no idea what caused this change of heart, but I wasn't about it look any deeper for it. With a huge smile on my face, I trailed behind Clare on the way into the school.

"Um, so, do you want to hang out after school, then?" I asked tentatively, wondering if I was pushing my luck. We stopped at Clare's locker and she turned to me with a look of uncertainty very clear on her face.

"I…well…we'll see, okay? Let's just focus on not being late to class, first." Clare grabbed her books from her locker and then latched onto my hand again. "Okay, you have History this period, right? Come one, I'll walk you there!"

Clare obviously forced cheeriness sparked my paranoia, but I was still powerless when it came to her; I trailed behind like dead weight. We stopped awkwardly outside Perino's classroom and Clare released my hand. What the hell was up with her? "So, um, yeah…I'll see you in English then?"

"Sure," Clare flashed me an uncomfortable smile before turning on her heel and taking off in the opposite direction of her first class. What?

All weirdness aside, Clare was second-guessing her need for space…and, although I had promised to respect her need, I couldn't be happier that she was reconsidering. That was all I needed, anyway; just a little vulnerability or doubt. Because I knew Clare still loved me; a love like ours just didn't go away. She was just overwhelmed.

I had thought she was adamant about the space thing, but since she no longer seemed that way I would take my opportunity to persuade her that I was completely over Julia. I could show her that I had meant it when I said that I loved her, and that everything was about her. Clare just needed a reminder that we were perfect for each other. We would talk. We would get over our insecurities together. And then we would live happily ever after.

I smiled to myself as I thought about how far I had come since Clare. I mean, even when I was with Julia I was still a cynical kid trying to find himself in the midst of all the crap. I never believed in happily ever after, and I certainly didn't want such a false, cliché notion…

But then there was Clare; the day to my night. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I wanted an obvious claim on her. The thought of anyone else even thinking about her the way I did made my blood boil, let alone the thought of anyone kissing or touching her. It was infuriating…so, one day, the world would know she was all mine and that I was all hers. I would even get married in a church if Clare so desired.

But, one day at a time- first, Clare had to remember that we weren't your average high school couple. I was over Julia, and we would get through whatever it was that was overshadowing our relationship.

No questions asked, that needed to happen. Before I was too late and Clare realized I never deserved her in the first place.

I was so caught up in my manic musing that I missed the fact that first period was over. I quickly vacated my seat before the girl who obviously sat there after me killed me. My head in the clouds, I barely noticed when I bumped into Clare in the doorway of Dawes' classroom.

"Oh, um, hi," I caught her elbows to keep her from falling as I oh-so-eloquently greeted her.

"Yeah, hi," she answered, and I could hear the distant coldness back in her voice. I wondered what that meant for me, and I instantly lost the optimistic edge I had felt earlier. "About earlier…"

She didn't really have to say anymore; it hurt, but I knew her well enough to know what she didn't want to say out loud. "I understand; back to the space…right?"

Clare gave me her attempt at a smile, but it looked more like a sad grimace. "Thanks, Eli. I really do appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah; take all the time you need, okay. I'll be waiting for you to sort things out."

She simply nodded at my promise, and an air of finality hung around us like a suffocating quilt. I wanted to choke on it, but in the name of making Clare happy I put on a brave face and gestured for her to go ahead. Clare took her usual seat, and I considered taking mine, but I wanted to show her that I would commit to this for her. I didn't want to, but I would. So, I walked clear across the room and found an available seat.

"You look like you could use a best friend right about now," Adam commented, sliding into the desk next to me.

I smiled at him, and was about to make a comment about his brilliant deduction skills when Miss Dawes called attention to the front of the room.

"See the vocabulary words on the board?" she asked the class, and we collectively groaned, knowing where she was going with the class. "Yes, I'm sure a lot of them are foreign to you. However, we're going to play a little game. Write sentences using these words without looking them up first, and we'll see if your context comes close to the actual meaning. On your marks, get set, write!"

I furrowed my brow at the board, and decided to start with the words for which I actually did know the meaning. Halfway through my third sentence, Adam interrupted me. "Hey, why aren't you sitting next to Clare?" he whispered suddenly, as if just realizing the seating arrangement.

I glanced over at where Clare was scribbling with a focused look on her face, and her beauty pierced right through me. I just wanted to go back to the way things were. But it wasn't that simple…our relationship never was.

She looked up to meet my gaze, a concealed concern behind her eyes. I looked away before my willpower crumpled, back to Adam. "I'm giving her space."

"Space…I didn't think that word was in your vocabulary," Adam jabbed, but, again, before I could get a remark in edgewise, I was interrupted by the loudspeaker.

"Would Eli Goldsworthy please come to the office; Eli Goldsworthy to the office."

Hmmm, I hadn't even done anything wrong, but it definitely wasn't every day I got called to the office- it must have been something important. I flipped my binder shut and turned to see Clare staring intently at me. She looked as if she were holding her breath for some reason, and I made a face at her to show her whatever it was, it probably wasn't a big deal.

I breezed out of the classroom without a word, though, stopping at my locker to put my English materials away. I glanced at the front office to find Bullfrog impatiently pacing in front of the desk. The secretary was shooting him dirty looks…what was Bullfrog doing at Degrassi during the day? I grabbed my jacket just in case we were making a break for it, and slipped it on as I paced quickly toward my father.

"Dad," I greeted him with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Damn kid, what took you so long?" I was going to answer but Bullfrog had obviously intended the question to be rhetorical because he soldiered on without waiting for my reply. "Is it cool if I talk to my son outside, in private?" Private? I was starting to feel the familiar anxiety bubble in my chest. My dad never looked so serious, so why were his dull worry lines very prominent on his face?

"That's fine, Mr. Goldsworthy," the secretary replied blandly, and Bullfrog swiftly walked toward the front door without even bothering to make sure I was following him.

"Sheesh, Mr. Goldsworthy is my dad," Bullfrog muttered angrily as he pushed the front door open.

By then, my chest was about to explode, and nearly a million worst case scenarios were screaming in my head. "What's going on?" I demanded. "Is Cece okay?" My dad didn't say anything to me, he just continued to angrily storm forward. "Whoa Bullfrog, talk to me!"

He finally spun around to face me. "We only have one rule under our roof, and it has been made very clear," he started, and I immediately understood what had been so urgent that he had made a special trip to my school. But…how did he know that I still had the gun? "Guns don't leave the house unless we're hunting," Bullfrog pointed at me angrily, and it was probably the closest thing I had ever come to receiving a lecture from my dad.

"Oh, man; I know," I assured him…this had been a special case. It wasn't like I had done anything bad with it…or anything _really_ bad, I should say.

"Then what were you thinking," Bullfrog started to raise his voice, and in turn so did I in defense.

"I was dealing with Julia!" I informed him quickly. "She was getting in the way of Clare and me, so I…I shot her picture," I confessed. I hadn't realized how…well, not sane that sounded until it was out of the dark confines of my head. Was I really losing it; was Clare right to want distance?

No, no…I had never done anything conventional. I had my own way of thinking through problems. That didn't make me insane.

"Eli," Bullfrog whined, clearly not pleased with my weak justification, "it won't make her deader." As if that were the reason I had done it! I wasn't stupid.

"I was mad at her," I explained, "so I let it out." That didn't help; Bullfrog started to walk away again, but not before I saw the look of questioning concern on his face that everyone seemed to wear around me. Well, I was sick of it. I wasn't crazy. "What do you want me to tell you? You raised a weird kid, so I'm going to deal in weird ways!"

Bullfrog wheeled back around, the serious look back on his face. "Shooting is no way to deal with anything, ever." He was right…but it was a little late. I had already basically dealt with it. With the Julia part of the problem, anyway. "You're not allowed to go on your spring break road trip with Clare," Bullfrog declared after a short silence.

It wasn't like Clare still wanted to go with me anyway, but I was not used to being reprimanded. My parents had always let me be a free spirit, but the problem with that was I had a natural defiance for authority. He was my dad, but I didn't like him telling me what to do. "But Dad, I…,"

Bullfrog cut me off. "No buts; hand 'em over." He held out his hand, clearly waiting for the keys to Morty. If I hadn't had class soon I would have put up a fight, but I didn't have the time or energy. I dug my keys out of my pocket and placed them in his hand. The battle was far from over, though.

"You're blowing this out of proportion."

"You're just luck Clare contacted me directly," Bullfrog shot back. Wait, Clare did what now? Bullfrog kept talking, but my mind was reeling. "If she'd have told your principal, you would have been expelled."

"Clare called you?" I asked stupidly, my mid in overdrive putting all the pieces together. The hug and not wanting space after I got my bag from the trunk…she had seen the gun. And then when she didn't go to class in the morning…the look she gave me before I left English. Great, she probably thought I was more unstable by the second. So unstable, in fact, that she didn't even come to me about the gun first. Damn it!

"Who else?" Bullfrog pointed out, and I exhaled in pain. It didn't go unnoticed. "All this stuff, it may seem like life or death right now, but give it time. Hey, time heals everything," Bullfrog said, trying to be helpful. It would probably take a lot of time for Clare to get past this…time I was not patient enough to just sit back and let pass by. I gave him the best imitation of a smile I could, though, and Bullfrog sighed. "Have a nice walk home," he added more salt to the wound.

"Yeah," I agreed, my sarcasm marred by the fact that everything was so wrong. I turned my back on my dad and trudged back into the school, removing my jacket, and making my way to my next class.

I actually focused on school for a change, not wanting to let my mind dwell on any of the new information it had received over the course of the morning. I just wanted to be a normal kid for one day, was that too much to ask?

But, by the time lunch rolled around, I couldn't just sit by and ignore everything. I had to talk to Clare; I had to at least attempt to undo some of the damage I had inflicted earlier.

She wasn't in the cafeteria, so I went on a quest…finally spotting her in the study area with several books open in front of her. I was not looking forward to the talk, but I had to suck it up.

"Bullfrog and I had a good laugh," I lied, trying for a light opener as I set myself down next to her.

"Really; what's so funny about bringing a gun to school?" Clare's voice was feeble…and she sounded…frightened of me? This was worse than I thought. I tried not to break down right there, but it was hard to hold back.

"What did you think I was going to do with it?" I asked her, not really wanting the answer because it would confirm that she thought I was a monster.

"I don't know, that's why I called your dad," she pointed out quickly, but I knew there was some idea that had formed in her head. She just wasn't going to tell me- whether to spare my feels or because she was afraid it would set me off, I couldn't be sure. And I hated that.

"Clare, I'm sure I explained to you that we go hunting every year for his birthday," I pointed out, letting my condescending tone mask the broken boy seconds from falling apart. "I just forgot to unload the hearse." She looked at me with those doe eyes…and I could tell that she really wanted to believe me. But I could also tell that she couldn't. "I'm not a psycho murderer," I clarified, again, trying and failing at humor. It was getting exceedingly difficult to make light conversation with Clare. "Next time talk to me before sounding the alarm."

"Fine," was all she said in response. Damn, Clare, answer me; talk to me, hit me…something to let me know you're still in there.

Then, though I knew it would be crossing a line, I just had to make one last offer. It was my last-ditch attempt to make things right, and I needed it to work. It had been my original plan, after all. "Look, I'm sorry for scaring you," I started.

"It's okay," Clare whispered, flashing me her sad eyes again. I did, however, see the relief mixed in…I could make this work; I had to make this work.

"What are you doing later?" I questioned not-so-subtly.

"Going to the dace," she replied firmly. "You?"

"I'm going to skip it…I'm heading to Bloomington tonight."

"You're still going?" Clare asked incredulously.

"Yeah, and you should come with me like we planned," I very nearly plead with her, "our little adventure."

"I told you…," she started, but I cut her off. I didn't need to hear again about how the trip was because I was trying to cover up Julia's death or whatever. I knew where Clare stood.

"I know, but it would mean _everything_ to me if you came. You don't have to answer me now, just think about it. If you decide to come meet me at our bench at nine."

Clare didn't say anything, so I gave her a pitiful excuse of a smirk before taking my leave. I had done all I could to save my relationship with Clare; the ball was in her court. I just had to trust that she loved me every bit as much as I loved her.

There was no way she wouldn't show.

XXX

When I got home for the cold and bitter walk a very concerned Cece and Bullfrog were waiting for me in the front room. They were both on the couch, and looked up immediately when I walked through the door.

"How was your walk home," Bullfrog asked, as if it were funny.

"It was the highlight of my life," I spat scathingly.

"Oh, baby boy, I heard you and Clare are going through a rough patch. Do you want to talk?" Cece asked me, and I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't…not when she was so concerned about me.

"I'd really rather not, but thanks."

"So, good new," Bullfrog smiled at me. "Your mom and I decided not to ground you."

"So I can have my keys back? I asked hopefully.

"Not a chance," Bullfrog chuckled. "What I meant to say was we're not going to ground you for your entire Spring Break. But we want you to lay low tonight…take a breather."

"It'll be good for you," Cece insisted, but I had already deflated, tuning them out. They weren't going to stand in my way no matter what.

"Sure, sure," I pretended to agree easily.

"Atta boy," Bullfrog patted me on the shoulder proudly. "Your mom is coming with me to the station now, so be good. We trust you, okay? But I have your keys with me, so don't bother searching the house, got it?"

"That's a convincing display of trust," I mocked.

Bullfrog just laughed his way out the door and Cece gave me a swift kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Eli. I know life can seem hard to handle at times, but I know you're strong. Hang in there for your momma?"

"How can I say no when you put it like that?" I smiled genuinely for the first time that day before Cece walked out of the house, leaving me alone. I waited till their car left and then I raced to my room to pack. Bullfrog had forgotten to confiscate my tickets, so after I changed I tucked them into my jacket pocket, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

Bullfrog had obviously let it slip his mind that Morty was a vintage hearse…so there were ways around using keys. My crazy uncle had taught me the screwdriver tick back when I was eight.

It wasn't too hard to track one down in Bullfrog's office, and then I locked the house up behind me.

Luckily, Morty wasn't even locked, so I hopped right it and shoved the tool into the ignition. I gave it a rough turn, and voila! The engine started right up.

I smiled as Morty growled beneath me, ready for adventure.

Ready or not, world, Eli Goldsworthy was coming.


	4. The Bitterest End

**I have been putting this off for so long…the last chapter of my Eli point of view for DTW. This is going to be painful for me to write, and while I didn't cry during the actually airing of the show, there will be tears shed during this. However, in a weird way, watching Nowhere to Run gave me the inspiration to finish this. Clare just disappointed me so much in that episode that I need an outlet for my frustrations. This will do. **

**I need to say a few more things before we get started; I'm sorry for the delay. Feel free to skip this if that's how you roll. Anyway, I need to thank everyone who was with me from the beginning. You all know who you are. This is going to be incredibly long without me listing every name, but I intend to send out some PM's after this is finished. I started these not only because I love Eli and Clare and EClare, but also because I was a little terrified of my writing. This seemed like a good way to practice. You all were so encouraging from the beginning, and you are the reason I have come as far as I have. I was just filling in the blanks, and then using the show's plot, after all. But you guys have been so amazing. I love you. Every single last one of you. Thank you a million times over. I will never be able to say it enough, but you have truly touched me, and I will always hold all of you very dear to my heart. **

**That being said, I am a little torn. As I said, this stated out as practice. It was fun to give insight to the character to all of those who were interested, but I also feel as though these stories reached their peak, in a sense. I don't know if I should continue on with these to Season 11, and I want your opinion…So, please; let me know if you would enjoy reading more of these, or if you have lost interest. Thank you.**

**Lastly, I don't own Degrassi. So here goes nothing and everything. **

_The thing about waiting is it seems infinite. Ten seconds could feel like ten hours; an entire minute, a full year. _

_But, when you are waiting for your life to come save you from yourself, time stands still. Nothing moves, no time passes, and you are just an empty shell of a person until what you are waiting for comes to make you whole again. You're stuck in that miserable moment forever and your thoughts eat away at the person you used to be. You're no longer the man she fell in love with- you've become a monster who destroys everything in its path. After all, you destroyed her…you stood inside yourself and watched as she tried to pull away. But instead of doing what was best for her, instead of letting her go, you let the monster pull her closer. You forced her to deal with the aftershocks of your implosion, and you will never forgive yourself. _

_But, even still, you can't bring yourself to want to let go. Because you need her. You don't exist without her. She keeps you whole. So, though you know it's wrong, you still hope for her to swoop in and save your life just one more time. _

_But she's not coming. And this knowledge crushes you. _

_Because you love her, and that should be enough, but you fuck up people's lives; you aren't allowed to be happy. She deserves better. _

_But you hold your breath, suffocating yourself, waiting for the girl who will never come._

XXX

The thoughts in my head were driving me up a wall, but I couldn't get them to stop racing around in my head like carts of a train that detached from one another; deadly and out of control.

Clare never told me she wouldn't come, but she also never said she would. My mind continued to flip from heart-wrenching terror that she would not show, to crippling hope that she would too quickly for me to even process the change. Frankly, I wasn't sure which one was doing more damage.

I looked back down to the copy of Stalker Angel I had brought with me for luck…and a reminder of the amazing things Clare and I could do when we were together. I was trying to focus enough to reread it, the story really was a masterpiece, but everything just kept falling back toward Clare in my mind.

She was the eye of the hurricane I called my thoughts, and they all raced around her as they moved out to destroy my peace of mind.

Because what if she really didn't come? I knew she wanted space, but didn't she want to fix our problems even more? We needed to spend time together- time in Morty, together, with nothing in our way but the bright future we had. We needed to talk. I needed her around.

So why hadn't she come yet?

I stood to look down the street for the millionth time, but none of the pedestrians were Clare. No, they were just enjoying a walk on a fresh spring evening. Never mind the fact that I was coming apart of the seams before their very eyes.

I looked down at my phone to find that it was officially 9:05…I felt the hurricane pick up, approach land, making everything go ten shades darker in my mind. But I refused to be totally discouraged. Maybe Clare was just having a hard time deciding…maybe she was on her way. Clare was always punctual, but I would understand if she needed just a little extra time to make the right decision; to skip the dance and meet me.

She would come….she had to come…Clare loved me, and Julia was irrelevant.

It was because of her that I had already experienced so much loss in my life; more than some people had to go through in a lifetime, and all before the age of 17. I couldn't lose Clare, too. She knew what that would do to me.

I had made so much progress, but only because of her. She was the only thing that kept me strong; she was my strength.

How much would I regress if she wasn't around? Would I bury myself in a hell hole again? Just the thought of Clare not showing up made my fingers twitch to have something concrete to hold on to, and never let go.

So, I gripped the Gothic Tales magazine tighter in my hands, twisting and turning it, creating an outlet for my nervous energy.

She **would** come. She _had _to come.

It was 9:10…I looked both ways down the road, but still, no sign of Clare. The thunder started to pick up, and I could barely make out the individual words in my head over the collective, demanding roar of my thoughts.

Clare wasn't coming. She would have been on her way. She would have let me know that she was running late if she was coming at all…but she wasn't. Why? What did I do to deserve the destruction of the little peace I had created in my life? Clare and I were perfect for each other. She had obviously forgotten that, but I remembered. I was supposed to remind her, but she wasn't going to let me.

I didn't remember moving, but I suddenly was caught off guard by the betrayal, and I held my weight up against the nearby telephone pole. Everything was dark in my head, no lightening to be found, only thunder. Every time there was a crash all I heard was the echo of lost love throughout my bones. _Clare, Clare, Clare…_

Why didn't she love me anymore?

I was suddenly angry, agitated. It only took a second for my mood to shift from crushing despair from the realization that Clare wouldn't be coming to the fury at myself for pushing her to this point…but once I realized my shift, I was pissed. Seething, uncontrollable fire licked through my veins. The agitation made it impossible to sit still as I waited; I had to be absolutely sure Clare would not come. Because what if I left before she got to me…then I would just have one more reason to hate myself.

I tugged at my hair, trying to rip the racing thoughts from my brain manually, but it didn't stop the swarm of hornets in my head. They cut through the storm, punctuating the thunder of her name with the sudden, awful truth. Clare didn't love me. That's why she didn't want to fix this. She didn't want this anymore. I kicked something, I was too preoccupied to know what, just to find an outlet for my desperate anger. I fidgeted with Gothic Tales, I slammed on Morty's hood…but nothing took away from the fact that Clare no longer loved me. So I no longer had reason to love myself. If Clare had given up on me, the epitome of kind and patient, than I was officially a lost cause. I would drown in my own sorrow and pity. Life was against me from the very beginning, and, hard as I tried, I could not reverse my luck.

I had known this moment would come, but that didn't stop it from hurting worse than anything else.

Suddenly, though, I needed an explanation. I was known to jump to conclusions. I was erratic…or so everyone seemed to think. So maybe Clare hadn't given up on me…I could easily find out.

I just couldn't be at this bench anymore, so, as I dialed Clare's number, I hopped into Morty and started to drive. I didn't know where I was going; I just knew I had to go.

The phone barely rung before Clare picked up. Before she could say anything…I had a few things I needed off my chest. "You didn't show up," I accused, trying, and failing, to keep the rough disappointment out of my voice.

"I know, I came to the dance," her voice was unapologetic, and I wondered where this distance had come from. It was the last straw…the confirmation I hadn't wanted.

"You ripped my heart out!" I accused, unable to rein in my pain and frustration and fury. It was the only way I could describe the burning emptiness I felt in my chest. I was like acid had run through my veins, obliterating everything that used to be important.

"That's not what I meant to do," Clare's voice was suddenly thick, and I wondered if she was crying. A forbidden pang of hope rang out in my empty chest, desperate for purchase.

"You made a promise, remember? That you would never leave me," My voice suddenly took on a pleading edge. If there was any chance that I could get Clare to reconsider, to come be with me, I would find it.

"I know," She started, and the hope slowly started to bleed out of my veins. I felt the black hole that was my heart and mind consuming every emotion but pain and wrath. It left me hollow; as if I had been lit on fire from the outside, but there was nothing left to destroy. "But I think it's time we let go of that…we're growing apart."

I started to laugh maniacally, though it wasn't funny. I hadn't been present for this so-called 'growing apart.' When had it happened? Or was she just looking for the easy way out? Trying to spare my feelings with a meaningless saying instead of letting her hatred for who I was become known. Because Clare had a good reason for everything she did…so she should have a good reason for breaking up with me. "Growing apart," I spat, trying to convey my distaste for her disregard of the gravity of the situation. "Any other melodramatic clichés you want to throw my way?" Because she couldn't be serious; I had to prove to her that she wasn't serious. She didn't have a good reason for burning my heart into oblivion, so she could still change her mind. I would _make _her change her mind. "Me, you and the hearse, Clare; like we've wanted all year."

My first attempt didn't go over as well as I hoped. "But that's not what I want anymore," Clare yelled into the receiver, clearly frustrated. Well, I wasn't giving up…that was what love was about. I couldn't give up on Clare. Even as the empty space in my chest ached, she was the only thing that mattered more than anything else in the world. Clare had shown me happiness- it made sense that she could take it away, too. But did she have to? "Okay, I hate the hearse. And spring is a time for rebirth, renewal; _not_ us."

Ouch, that was a low blow. Clare knew Morty and I…we were a package deal. But if Morty was the problem…if Clare would come on the road trip with me in, say, Cece's car. I would just have to cleanse my life of my hearse, and I could keep Clare; small price to pay, I'd say.

I refused to believe anything that was said after Clare's declaration of her hatred for Morty. I could, I would, deal with that. But it would always be time for Clare and me. I just had to show Clare it was still true. A grand gesture, if you will.

"If you hate the hearse…I'll get rid of it."

"Eli, you love that car," Clare tried to reason. But what she didn't understand was nothing was stronger or bigger than my love for her. Not even Morty could outshine it.

"I love _**you**_," I emphasized. "And I know you love me."

I just had to remind her that she loved me…I had to get rid of Morty, and remind Clare. And I knew exactly how to do both at the same time. It was painfully simple.

"We need to breakup," Clare suddenly asserted, but I was too far gone. She didn't mean it; I had to show her…so much was buzzing in my head. "Did you hear me? We're not meant to be together!"

Ha! Such blasphemy; and Clare was the religious one. We were perfect for each other, and she knew it. She knew, I knew, I had to remind her, get rid of Morty…too much for one person to handle or process. "We are. I just have to get rid of Morty."

With that, I set my cell down without hanging up. I could hear mumbling coming from the other end of the line, but I had a job to accomplish in the name of love. Get rid of Morty. Remind Clare that she loved me; would do anything for me.

I hit the gas, the sudden acceleration pushing me against my seat. I needed to find the right spot; I couldn't harm anyone, just Morty. An old, abandoned warehouse came into view. Perfect. I aimed…and then

_**Crash!**_

XXX

_Everything goes dark, but you don't lose consciousness like you thought you would. That makes it infinitely more painful, being trapped somewhere inside your mind without the comfort of oblivion. Your neck hurts from the backlash of the impact, and you're pretty sure you can't move your leg. When you try, searing pain shoots through your spine, and settles, tingling, at the top of your brain. _

_You have no clue what position you're in, or even how long you stay there, until other noises are heard. People are buzzing around you, trying to make sure you are okay. You hear the word suicide being thrown around, but it doesn't suit you. _

_Because this crash wasn't about death. It was about love._

_And even through all the pain and worry and hustle that surrounds your packed, fuzzy brain _she_ is the only thing that matters; all you can really think about. The piercing blue eyes, the soft curly hair that frames her smiling face. She's beautiful, inside and out. Everything you want, and everything you'll never deserve…the monster is taunting you. Her image starts to fade as your consciousness falls back into place like a puzzle. _

_And, even though she is still in the back of your mind, a mantra you can never forget, the sharp, stinging pain invades your mind._

_Welcome back to life…or is it really hell? _

_As the monster smiles, you cannot remember. _

XXX

When I heard Bullfrog and Cece, the last shred of consciousness dropped back into its rightful position, and the first thing I noticed was the unnatural set of my leg. I cringed, and tried to look around, but there was a brace constricting my movement. And I was strapped to a stretcher.

"But my baby boy is okay, right?" Cece sobbed, hysterical.

A deep voice I didn't recognize answered her. "He's still breathing, but we want to rush him to the hospital to make sure he's stabilized."

"Once I know he's okay, I am going to kill him," my dad's voice was rougher than usual with emotion. I lifted my heavy lids further, despite the fight they put up.

"Mom, Dad?" my voice sounded scratchier than I had expected, and the neck brace was starting to itch. Thankfully, the thoughts in my head were no longer a hurricane…more of a tropical storm.

"Eli, oh, Eli…what were you thinking?" Cece cried, suddenly at my side. She clutched my hand tightly, and it would have hurt had I not been distracted by other overshadowing pains.

Everything was still a little fuzzy…so how was I supposed to explain myself. I didn't even know how to start… "Where…what…Mom, everything hurts."

"They just gave you some sedatives, kid. The pain'll go away soon enough," Bullfrog attempted to reassure, but I was pretty sure he was crying. I didn't think my dad had ever cried before.

"What…what time is it?"

"Sometime after 10; why?" Cece squeezed tighter, eyeing me with concern.

"I just…maybe if I had a sense of time everything would start making sense again...I'm just a little…jumbled," the words were hard to come by; I was struggling with simple sentences.

"Things don't have to make sense right now, okay, Eli," Bullfrog answered, hastily wiping at his face. "Just go to sleep. I'll ride with you in the ambulance." And with that, someone started to wheel the stretcher I was on. But before they loaded me in, a flash of undamaged color caught my eye in the mess I had left behind.

"Wait, dad, could you grab that," I tried to point with the hand that Cece was still attached to, but she just held on tighter.

Thankfully, Bullfrog seemed to see what I was talking about without further explanation. He quickly jogged over through the wreckage as they pushed me into the too white ambulance. Bullfrog hopped in with Cece, the paramedics and me right before we took off, and he handed me the Gothic Tales magazine.

"Don't know how this made it when Morty's scrap metal now, but here ya go."

I looked down to see the only survivor, aside from me- Clare's and my story. "It's a sign," I whispered, but I didn't think anyone heard me as the pain medication did its job and I floated into numbness.

XXX

I woke up a second time to the chaos of an emergency room…the clinical smell instantly invading my nostrils. I cringed.

"Ah, you're awake again," Bullfrog's voice was next to me, but he didn't sound pleased.

I rubbed at my face, trying to jump start everything. "Where's Cece?"

"She's taking a break in the cafeteria…this put a lot of stress on her, kiddo."

I frowned at myself. Why hadn't that occurred to me earlier? Oh, right…Clare…desperation. I suddenly looked around for the one person that should have been there, if no one else. But she wasn't anywhere to be found. "Is, um…did anyone else stop by to see me?"

"Damn it, Eli! I knew it," Bullfrog dropped his head into his hands. "Did something happen with Clare? You weren't trying to kill yourself, were you?"

"No, no!" I assured him instantly…I hadn't been. "I didn't want to die…but, um, I don't know. It seemed like I good idea" I tried to shrug, but the brace wouldn't let me move my shoulders.

"Eli! How…I…your mother…,"Bullfrog was seething, but I could see the pain and fear in his eyes, rather than anger. That scared me more than anything. "I can't…we'll talk about this later. When you're not in a hospital bed. Just, go back to sleep. I have to see if I can track down the doctor and find out what you did to yourself, exactly"

Bullfrog, shaking his head, stepped out from the portioned space. I leaned back against the pillow, suddenly questioning what exactly I had done…

But then I head an angelic voice asking about me, and everything suddenly felt worth it. Despair forgotten, I was riding a cloud of euphoria.

Clare suddenly burst through the door and gave me a one over, her face contorting in pain. She shouldn't be upset…she still loved me. She had come for me. I wanted to get up and comfort her, but that wasn't an option, I supposed.

Instead, I would have to comfort with words. "Look what I saved from the wreckage," I held up the battered copy of Stalker Angel that was still in my hands. "Our story."

"What did you do?" Clare demanded, breathless.

"I crashed Morty," I informed her sheepishly, but she was there. It was worth it. It had worked. She loved me. "You hated it."

"But you could have died," Clare looked like she could burst into tears at the very thought, and my heart started to beat, very much in my chest. The black hole had been replaced.

"It was worth it though…you came."

Instead of looking relived, or happy, like I thought she should, Clare was suddenly confused. Her eyes searched my face… "You knew I would come," she seemed mortified by the idea. But I hadn't known…I had hoped. And not in vain, thankfully.

I reached out for her hand. "Clare…"

She took a step back, shaking her head. "No…no, you are manipulating me!"

What? No, I hadn't done that! I was just proving to Clare that she still loved me. That we should still be together. "I wasn't," I assured her, my anxiety spiking at the turn our conversation had taken. "I wanted to live. I-I was destroying Morty for you," I explained desperately.

"No, you scare me, Eli," her words were genuine in a way that crushed my heart all over again. Her eyes held a frantic fear that I could not deny, as much as I wanted to. "I can't be around you!"

She started for the door, but I propelled myself onto my side so I could grab her arm. She couldn't go…not like this…not ever! "No, no, no…don't; don't leave me, please."

She took a deep, shaky breath, and then looked me right in the eye. "I'm sorry, okay, but I can't." She ripped herself from my grasp and walked back out the way she came. Everything suddenly seemed final as I watched her pace frantically away from me.

Maybe I should have crashed Morty to die.

Because without Clare, there certainly wasn't anything worth living for.

_And you fade away until you don't recognize who you are from the outside in. This shell of a person is a mockery of what you once were, what you could have been. _

_The monster in your head smiles, satisfied by its destruction. _


End file.
